


Write What You Know

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete's a widower with a three-year-old, a mortgage, a deadline, and no idea what his next book is going to be. Gabe's the barista at his local coffee place who turns his life and his world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Write What You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to inlovewithnight for beta and handholding, and to quintenttsy and corbae for amazing additional works that you can find [here](http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/1086214.html)

Pete is pretty sure he ordered a double tall caramel macchiato, but whatever the cashier says to the barista, it definitely isn’t that. He squeezes Jake’s hand and winks down at him. He gets a solemn look back and has to grin. Everyone jokes that there’s no way Pete can be his dad since the kid’s so serious, but Pete really doesn’t understand how they can’t see the everything that makes his so very like Pete. He really doesn’t care.

“Two story sweet Italian.” A cup of coffee appears in front of Pete’s face at the end of long fingers. “That’s you, right, dude?”

Pete looks up and something hot curls in his stomach. “I…what? Sorry?”

“Double tall caramel macchiato, right?”

“That’s…not what you…yes. Yes. Yeah. Me.”

“This is you.” The guy sets the cup in front of him. “And a William Tell special for the little man.”

“William T…oh, apple juice. Got it.”

The guy winks and the heat goes from Pete’s stomach directly to his dick. “Um. Yeah. Thanks. Thanks for…” He shoves a couple ones into the tip jar and grabs both drinks. “Thanks.”

They sit at one of the small tables, Pete watching Jake demolish the straw wrapper before holding the denuded plastic up to Pete. “Awesome job, duder.” He spears the plastic top, sending a small well of apple juice on an escape mission. He holds it out so Jake can suck it up before there’s any chance of mishap.

“Yuice.” Jake crosses his legs on the seat and sucks happily at the straw.

“Simple pleasures.” Pete takes the lid off his cup and blows across the foam. It smells rich and buttery sweet, and he’s going to have to add more laps to his workout if he keeps indulging himself in these. He sets the iPad on the table in front of Jake, giving him the choice of Elmo, dinosaurs, or trains. They have a month and a half long record of him _not_ choosing Elmo, and Pete’s hoping he’s heard the last of him. Jake touches the dinosaur, and Pete gives himself a mental high five before settling back with his own drink and tablet.

He wants to read or relax, but he knows he owes Sabrina a first draft soon, and Regency England isn’t going to research itself. He starts Googling and reading through downloaded documents to the low growl of dinosaurs and the variety of conversations around them. None of them seem to be in English, which actually helps Pete concentrate.

“Locirapper.” Jake turns his screen toward Pete. It’s the cutest rapacious killer Pete’s ever seen, bright orange and yellow.

“He’s a complete 80s music video, J. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go level.”

“Locirapper.” Jake nods and turns the screen back, making the dinosaur roar again and then run across the screen. Reality would probably have it pouncing on and gutting some unsuspecting herbivore, but the program just has him traipse around some overgrowth. 

“Shit.” Pete highlights some text and saves it, pretty sure Sabrina hates him and is planning to drive him crazy with undergarments, fasteners and poetry. 

“Sit!” Jake smacks his hand on the table, tipping over his apple juice. “Sit! Sit!”

“Shit. No, Jake.” Pete catches the cup and uprights it, grabbing Jake’s tablet to keep it out of the way of the spreading puddle. “Not your words. Grown up words.”

“You guys need a little help?” The barista walks over, armed with a towel. “Have no fear. Super-Barista is here.”

Jake gives the guy a long look, sizing him up, which is kind of impressive, given that Pete’s about half the guy’s height, and Jake probably comes up to his knees. If he’s lucky. “Cape.”

The barista’s eyebrow goes up along with the corners of his mouth, and he sets the towel down on the table before reaching back, undoing the ties of his apron. With a quick twist and a flourish, he swings the apron around his neck, letting it hang down his back. “Viola. Cape.”

Jake’s expression doesn’t change, but the barista apparently takes his silence as acceptance and starts cleaning the table. Pete takes advantage of the distraction of both of them to actually move his brain past the ‘holy shit, hot guy talking to me’ stage, which is _really_ sad, given that it was just his coffee order, to actually _looking_ at the hot guy.

Long legs and torso. Long arms. Long fingers. Pete stops his brain there before it goes off any tangents his son shouldn’t be privy to. The guy’s dressed like the non-surfer half of the guys in California in tight black jeans and a black t-shirt, some grunge throwback flannel that’s too short at the wrists. The purple and black squares is are post-Cobain and more ‘look at me and I’ll pretend not to notice’ than it is “I could give a fuck what you think’. Hot Topic as anti-establishment.

Pete looks up to his face, past the too-long curly brown-black hair that’s laying in soft swirls on his neck. His mouth is curved in a sly, knowing smile and his dark eyes are looking directly at Pete.

“You want a new cup of juice?” He smiles even wider, like he _knows_ what Pete’s thinking, and Pete can feel heat staining his cheeks.

“No. I mean, no thank you. He was saying bad words, so no more juice.”

“Kids pick up everything. Literally and word-wise, right? I think parenting is just a big game of charades in the long run.”

“Oh? Do you have kids?”

“No, but I was one, and what you see as an adult is pretty much the same thing only taller.” He cracks another smile, and Pete can’t help noticing how white his teeth are against his tanned skin. “Of course, that doesn’t look like something you’ll have to worry about.”

“What? Him being corrupted and…” Pete stops himself and spells. “D. O. U. C. H. E. Y?”

“Corrupted, huh?” His grin gets impossibly wider. “Ha. No, man. I meant taller.”

“Hey!” Pete frowns and then has to smile. “Mean.”

“Gabanti!” The cashier’s voice seems way too loud, but given that she’s trying to talk over a line of people at the counter, Pete can’t blame her really.

“Gotta run.” He fist bumps Jake’s hand. “Later, little man.” He winks at Pete. “And little man’s son.”

Pete doesn’t stare as he walks back behind the counter, turning his apron around and retying it.

Much.

**

He trips over two stuffed dinosaurs and a wooden truck, then steps on a pile of LEGO, cursing under his breath as he hobbles to open the door. Hilary raises her eyebrow. “I thought you were getting laid.”

“I’m going out for coffee.”

“Right. Well, I thought maybe coffee was a euphemism for getting laid.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I thought maybe you were trying to be discreet.” They look at each other for a few moments, and Pete’s not sure if she’s being serious or not.

“I don’t have to be discreet. He’s watching Nemo.” He leans against the wall and rubs the bottom of his foot. “If you have children, I’m going to buy them marbles and LEGO and Lite Brite pegs.”

“You can buy me those now. Why do I have to ruin my fun and have children first?”

“I hope you get a plastic dinosaur embedded in your foot.” 

“I baby-sit for free, remember.” She takes off her jacket and pulls Pete’s off the hook on the wall, handing it to him as she replaces it with her own on the hook. “Go away.”

“It’s just a meeting with Sabrina.”

“You could have sex with Sabrina.”

Pete stares at her in abject horror. “Why would you even make that thought be in my head?”

“She’s nice. She’s attractive. She actually puts up with you.” Hilary shrugs. “More than you can say about most people.”

“She reads my _books_.”

“So?”

“So? So?” He points at her. “People who read my books have expectations.”

“Yeah, that you’re the Latina on the back cover. Who _is_ that girl?”

“She’s a cover model. That’s not the point.”

“Okay, if the point isn’t that people who read your books think Kingston Peters is a buxom, sexy chick, then what actually is it?”

“I told you.” He pulls his jacket on and shoves his hands in the pockets. “They expect things.”

“For a writer, you’re shit at using your words. Should we get your agent in on this conversation?”

“Sex things.”

“Sex things.” Hilary keeps a straight face, but Pete can see how much it costs her. God, he hates his family. “Like what? That you know how to tenderly caress the velvet skin of her…”

“Oh god!” Pete slaps his hands over his ears. “Shut up. I hate you so much. So much.”

“What was that one called, Pete? _Amber Midnight_?” Hilary laughs and opens the door. “Don’t worry. We won’t wait up.”

He curses her the entire drive to the coffee shop. He’s not even sure why he suggested the place at all. The guy – Pete’s fairly sure he is name isn’t actually Gabanti, but he hates to assume – probably only works days and probably has forgotten Pete and probably really doesn’t give a shit if Pete looks like he’s on a date, even if he isn’t. Pete has a kid. Staring at a dude doesn’t mean anything, especially if the dude is freakishly tall.

Not that Pete condones staring at people. He’s already had a talk with Jake about that. And Pete wasn’t staring. Not really. And even if he was, that doesn’t automatically mean that he accidentally jerked off thinking about the barista guy. Or that he was wearing the stupid apron as a cape while Pete was fisting his junk. Oh, god. He’s a freak.

He parks and pulls his phone out, scrolling through his contacts and dialing Travis. “What are you doing?”

“The ladybugs are doing the polka dot polka.”

Two years ago that would have meant Travis was out of his head on pills. Now it means he’s probably halfway through illustrating an award-winning children’s book. Again.

“Can they strike a pose for a minute?”

“Ladybugs don’t vogue, dude. That’s the mantis.”

“Right. Sorry. Tell me I’m not a freak of nature.”

“We promised not to lie to each other after that thing with the canal and the college senior.”

“I don’t remember promising that. And hey!”

Travis laughs. “You’re a great dad. Stop freaking out.”

“What? I know that. Oh god, did someone say I wasn’t? Is Corinne talking shit about me again?”

“No. Dude. Dude. Breathe. With both lungs. Get some oxygen to your brain. You just normally have dad freak-outs. I was trying to head one off at the pass, not cause one. Relax.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry.” He breathes a few times, filling his lungs and letting the air out slowly. 

“So, what’s up?”

“Hilary thinks I asked Sabrina out on a date.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because I asked Sabrina if she wanted to have coffee.”

There’s a long silence and Pete’s pretty sure he can _hear_ Travis frowning. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I like coffee.”

“Which is why you drink it in the safety of your kitchen while you talk to Sabrina on the phone. Sabrina does not want to date you, Pete. She wants to devour you whole and spit out the piece of you that are book ideas. She wants to chain you to a computer she’s disconnected from the internet and wiped free of porn. She _is_ cruel and unusual punishment.”

“You’ve been watching horror films again.”

“The woman is evil, Pete.”

“She’s your agent too.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t look at me like I’m her man-entrée.”

“Dude, I’m no one’s man-entrée. I’m not even a man-appetizer. Besides, she’s terrified of children.”

“She’ll lock Jake in the playroom with a box of Cheeri-Os and a water cooler full of apple juice. She’s a devil woman, man. She’s gonna _getcha_.”

“Pete?”

Pete shrieks and drops the phone, blinking rapidly at Sabrina standing on the other side of his car door. “Stop fucking laughing, Trav,” he hisses as he grabs the phone and disconnects the call, tucking it into his jacket pocket as he climbs out of the car. “Hey.”

“You could have waited inside for me.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, Travis called, so I was talking to him. Thanks for meeting me.”

“You said you had big news.”

“Right. Um.” He buries his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders. “I think the new Lewis King book is finished.”

“What new Lewis King book?”

Pete opens the door to the coffee shop and gets blasted with a gust of warm air and roasting beans. “Exactly.”

Sabrina goes directly to the line, looking at Pete like she’s trying to figure out how much he’s giving her shit. He just keeps his hands in his pockets and stares at the assortment of pastries in the glass display case until they get to the counter. He can practically recite her order for her, because she never mixes it up, and it’s always barked out in that same tone. He waits until she’s done and orders his own drink, just a regular coffee, since it’s late and he’s already going to be up all night. He doesn’t need a sugar crash to fuck his mood.

Sabrina pays and goes to find a table, even though it’s not particularly crowded. Pete waits by the counter for their coffees. The guy isn’t there, it’s some teenager making the drinks. He knew it was going to be the case, but that doesn’t stop the twinge of disappointment he gets. He takes the coffees over to the table and sits down, settling in as Sabrina starts flipping through tablet screens.

“You didn’t tell me you were writing another mystery.”

“I didn’t know I was. It’s not how it started out.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “I had it all mapped out, you know? There was going to be a little bit of intrigue, but then it took on a life of its own.”

“Is it a sequel?”

He hates that question. He gets it all the time, even though people don’t really write sequels in the romance world. They write stories that introduce characters that are used in later novels. Not a sequel, just the same universe. Batman’s not a sequel to Superman, they just exist in the same world. “No.”

“Pete.”

“No. It’s not. I mean, Isadora and Beckworth make an appearance, but it’s not a sequel. They’re not the main focus. They’re barely in focus. They’re like the blurry people in the background.”

“But we can sell it with that.”

“You think we can get a publisher for it?” He drinks more coffee, watching her scroll.

“This is where I remind you that you _have_ a publisher for the book you _haven’t_ written, you know.” She looks up and nails him with her glance. “You’ve already gotten the advance.”

“I’m doing research. It’s not due for another month.” He shifts in his seat and looks away from her. “It’ll be done.”

“Regency is selling right now, Pete. I know it’s not your forte, but it’s what the people want.”

“I thought they wanted vampires. Or zombies.”

“Vampires are tired and, as much as zombies are the next big thing, they’re not the big thing in romance. Combine the supernatural and the regency.”

“Yeah, I think Jane Austen and friends have beaten me to that.”

“Those aren’t original books though. You are _very_ original. Come on. King George and the vampire vixen.”

“King George was crazy. He talked to trees. And the Prince Regent was an ass. And then they taxed the colonies and caused the Boston Tea Party. There was a lot of syphilis.”

“More coffee?”

Pete looks up and he can feel the blush heat his skin. He probably looks like a circus clown or something. The guy – barista guy – is standing there, a coffee pot in his hand, hovering over Pete’s cup. “What?”

“Refill. Would you like one?” He waggles the pot, letting it slosh around. “You got a drip, right? Free refills. I just filled the dispensers and I have a little left over. You want it?”

“Oh. Um. Yes. That would be…yes.”

He tops Pete’s coffee off and Pete just stares at the stream of dark liquid so he won’t embarrass himself further. “Don’t spill it now. It’s a lot hotter than apple juice.”

“I hope so. Not for spilling. I mean, I don’t want to spill hot stuff, but I also don’t like cold coffee.” He takes a sip and chokes, burning his mouth.

“It’s hot, dude.”

“Right.” Pete sets the cup down, careful not to spill, and sticks his tongue out. “Ice water?” It comes out sounding ridiculous, but he can’t feel his tongue. He can see the red tip of it, so he knows it’s still there at least, not burned to ashes in his mouth. 

“Yeah. Right back.” 

He turns and goes and Pete drops his head to the table, hiding it in his arms. Sabrina is completely silent, which is never a good sign. He peeks out at her over his elbow and she’s looking at him like he’s some weird science experiment. “The coffee was hot,” he says.

“So I gathered.” She holds out her hand. “The book?”

“Right.” There’s a distinct coldness to her tone that informs him very clearly that she is no longer under the mistaken impression that this is a social occasion. He supposes he should be grateful, but really, he feels like kind of an ass. He digs his thumb drive out of his pocket and hands it over to her. 

“Ice water.” The guy sets the cup down and smiles at them both, then moves off to clean some tables. Pete tries not to watch him, because Sabrina’s watching _him_ , and he really doesn’t need this to get more awkward. 

“I think you’ll like it.”

“I’ll like it if I can sell it. I’ll also like it if the next time we meet you have the book you’re actually contracted to write.”

“Right.” 

She tucks her tablet and the thumb drive away and shrugs into her coat. Setting her bag on her lap, she looks at him for a long time before sighing and finishing the last of her coffee. “No distractions, Pete. Remember?”

“Yes. No distractions. I have no distractions.”

“You mean besides Jake.”

It’s an old argument, and Pete knows she’s pissed if she’s bringing it up again, because it’s one that almost lost her his contract. “Jake’s not a distraction. He’s my _son_.”

“Then maybe you should cut back on the coffee.” She stands up and leaves, and Pete hates how she always gets the last line. He takes a sip of his coffee then digs an ice cube out of his water and sucks on it. He also hates that she’s probably right.

It doesn’t stop him from sitting at the table for a couple more hours. He pulls out his notebook and writes down a few things, scratching most of them out moments later. He’s not going to write anything worth keeping in his present mood, but the feeling of the pen in his hand and the sound of it scratching on paper is soothing at least. 

“More coffee?”

Pete looks up. “No. Thanks. I’m probably not going to sleep as it is.”

“I think it’s a myth.” He turns the chair opposite Pete around and straddles it, letting the pot sit on the table and crossing his arms over the chair back. “That caffeine keeps you up all night. I think it’s other stuff and we just blame caffeine.”

“Science be damned?”

“By the very nature of faith, science is damned.” He grins that bright, cocky grin and Pete ducks his head to hide his own laugh and to mentally tell himself and his dick to stop it. Right now. “I’m Gabe.”

“Pete.”

“And the little guy?” Gabe grins wider. “The other little one.”

“Height jokes are just mean, dude. It’s not like I can do much about it. I ate my Wheaties and everything.” He grins anyway and closes his pen in his notebook, knowing his smile probably gets ridiculously goofy as he says his son’s name. “Jake.”

“He’s your kid?”

“Yeah. He’s three.” He stops himself, because he knows he’ll go on for hours about Jake if someone shows the slightest interest, and chances are Gabe’s not really interested. “He says you guys have the best apple juice in town.”

“Oh, absolutely. I press the apples myself every morning.” Gabe glances over to the empty counter and then back to Pete. “And the lady?”

“The…oh. Oh. That’s Sabrina.”

“She’s his mom?”

“Oh, dear god. No. No. God.” He probably looks horrified. He _feels_ horrified at the mere thought of Sabrina raising anyone completely dependent on her. “She’d give Medea and Joan Crawford a run for their money. No. She’s my agent.”

“You’re an actor?” There’s a hint of disapproval in Gabe’s voice. It makes sense, given that everyone in LA seems to be an actor.

“No. I’m a writer. I write. Books.”

“Oh. Would I have read anything by you?”

“I doubt it.” Pete shakes his head. “I’m not exactly a best-seller or anything.”

Gabe nods and glances at the counter again. “I should probably get back to work. We’re closing in a little bit.”

“She’s dead.”

“Pardon?” Gabe stops midway through rising from his chair. 

“Jake’s mom. She’s dead. She died. A few months after he was born.” He frowns and looks down at his notebook, at his hand and the bare ring finger. He wore her ring for a long time after they laid her in the ground and he’s still not completely used to being without it. 

“I’m sorry, man. That must have been rough. Losing her and having a baby.” He finishes standing and Pete has to look up at him. “But you’ve obviously done a good job. He seems like a great kid.”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve had help. My folks and her folks and friends and stuff. But, yeah. It was rough.” He knows he’s losing Gabe. He always knows when he’s losing the audience. “I thought you only worked mornings.”

“Most of the time. Sometimes I crack a night shift if someone needs coverage.” He grabs the coffee pot handle. “You sure you don’t want one for the road?”

Pete shrugs. “Yeah. Go ahead and top it off.” He waits until Gabe’s poured it full and then snaps the lid back on. “It was nice to see you. Meet you. Officially.”

“You too.” Gabe goes back to the counter and drops off the coffee pot, digging a frosted cookie out of the pastry display case. “Here.” He tosses it at Pete who catches it with one hand, nearly dropping it in surprise. “For Jake.”

“What about me?”

Gabe’s eyebrow goes up and he laughs. “Next time, maybe. If you behave.”

**

There’s a message on his machine from Sabrina two days later telling him she’s got a publisher for the Peter King novel, but that doesn’t change the fact that he needs to deliver the next one for Kingston within two weeks. He spends his days with Jake watching TV and playing in the park and reading books eighty times each. They play with dinosaurs and cars and stuffed animals and Jake tells him stories that make Pete remember what it was like to want to write down all the things in his head. He jots down notes a few times, determined to give them to Travis to illustrate and tell the story of and, when Jake goes down for his nap, he researches and outlines and sketches out his characters and plot until all that’s left are the words that glue it all together. 

Half the secret to romance novels is the formula and the other half is making it seem new and fresh. And the sex. Fifteen years ago Pete wouldn’t have been able to make a living doing what he does, but now that things are a little looser in regards to the words and phrases he can use, it’s comes pretty easily. No pun intended. 

He spends his nights writing, the background of his second screen a picture of an artistic rendering of Regency England, the continuity of it broken up with articles on clothing and language and mores of the time. Some of it is high romance – describing the ambiance of the time, the soft lighting and strict moral and social standards – but more of it is making his characters people that seem real. He tries to imbue them with a sense of permanence, like something that might have survived and lasted in that time, something that might endure. He knows he’s not writing Anna Karenina or Jane Eyre, but he wants his heroines to make people believe they could be those women or anyone else they chose. 

He introduces his hero at a masked ball, the shield over his face doing nothing to hide his identity from the heroine. She knows him. She’s always known him. Pete describes him as she sees him, from the long fingers curled around the stem of the mask to the dark green vest he wears under his black suit. His rakish smile and the knowing look that pierces the room through his disguise. He’s a foreigner, an outsider to everyone but her. A Spaniard. Gabriel.

“Oh shit.” Pete drops his head onto the keyboard, making it squawk. “Get it together, Wentz,” he mumbles to himself. “You are not doing this.” He keeps his head down for a few more minutes then looks at the screen. “Shit.”

He grabs his phone without thinking and dials the number by memory. It’s programmed into his contacts, but he dials it every time, remembering the rush of the first time. 

“It’s three in the morning, Pete.” Mikey’s voice is groggy and rough and Pete can hear someone grumbling in the background. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going in the other room.” Pete waits and keeps highlighting and unhighlighting the text as he listens to the sounds of Mikey moving - the rustle of covers, the quiet click of a door. “Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry.”

“It’s cool.” It’s always cool with Mikey, which is probably why he and Pete have managed to stay friends. Pete can hear more sounds, Mikey sitting down and probably tugging a blanket over himself. “What’s up?”

“I have a problem.”

“I guessed.”

“No. I mean.” Pete exhales. “You remember when we met?”

Mikey’s quiet for a long time and if not for the slight hitch in his breathing, Pete might think he’d fallen back to sleep. “I hope that’s rhetorical.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.” Pete sighs. “If I didn’t know how to do this part then, Mikey, I really don’t know how to do it now.”

“It’s not different, Pete.” 

He highlights the text again and deletes it this time, undoing it immediately and saving his draft. “It is. Now I’ve got a kid.”

“It’s not. You’d have a kid if it was a woman too.”

“Right, but…” He stops, because he knows Mikey’s right, and arguing is just going to make him sound like a jerk or worse. Arguing is going to _make_ him a jerk or worse. “It is different though. I mean, if I started dating some woman, Jake would get it. He might not like it and I’d have to explain certain things to him, but he’s got enough examples of heterosexual couples to not think it’s weird.”

“So you have to tell him that sometimes boys like boys and sometimes girls like girls. You live in LA, Pete. It’s not like it’s not going to come up at some point. Besides, he’s three. You think he really cares?”

“He cares that someone’s going to be taking time with his dad away.”

“Again, that would happen either way.” Mikey sighs and Pete knows they’re having a circular argument, which isn’t even really an argument, because Pete knows Mikey’s right and what Mikey is saying isn’t opposed to what Pete is saying. “No one doubts that you love Jake, Pete.”

“Corinne might try to get custody again.”

“You’re his dad, you provide for him. You have a schedule that lets you spend more time with him than she could. Besides, she knows Beth wanted him with you.”

“Yeah, well, Beth’s wishes keep getting fainter and fainter after two years.” Pete moves away from the computer desk and sits on the floor, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t know if I can listen to the bullshit she’s going to spew about this though. You know I suck at not listening to what people say about me.”

“Then as loud as she says bad shit, all of your friends will remind you of how good you are. You’re an amazing dad, Pete. Jake loves you. And if you start sucking dick, that’s not going to change.”

“Okay, those two things in that proximity sound way too fucking creepy, Mikes.”

Mikey giggles. “Yeah. Okay. Point. Sorry.”

Pete’s quiet for a little bit, closing his eyes and just listening to Mikey breathe. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“And sorry for, you know, interrupting.”

“Eh, we were just sleeping. Didn’t interrupt anything important.” Mikey laughs a little and yawns. “Get some sleep, Pete. Jerk off. You’re always calmer after you jerk off.”

“Unfair use of personal knowledge, Mikey. That’s, like, a technical foul.”

“Pete. Bed. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” Pete sighs. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep. Your kid’s going to wake up pretty soon.”

**

The next few times he gets coffee, he makes sure to go through the drive through. He’s tried giving up coffee in the past, but it’s always ended in disaster, so he just has to work on the assumption that Sabrina wasn’t actually talking about coffee in her warning. He knows he could go to a different coffee shop, but he makes little dares and bets with himself instead, daily goals. He won’t look in and see if Gabe’s on shift when he drives by before deciding whether or not to go. He won’t look in the window. He does pretty good for a week, but then it’s a stupidly hot day in LA and, after a rough afternoon at the park that involves a pair of torn jeans, scraped up knees, a wood sliver and a little girl named Clara, Jake wants to go inside where it’s cool.

The place is quiet as they’re somewhere between the morning and afternoon rush. Jake’s sticking close to Pete, practically hugging his leg, and Pete’s too focused on him to even look for Gabe.

“What’ll it be?”

Pete glances up and Gabe’s standing at the cash register. “Oh. Hey. Um.”

Jake tugs on Pete’s shirt and Pete squats down to hear his whisper. He hugs him and nods then sends him to the table. “Apple juice and one of those cookies? And an iced mocha. Three shots.”

“Coming right up.” He rings the order up then moves over to the espresso maker, gathering coffee and tamping it down, snapping it into the machine with an economy of motion. Someone else comes from the back and takes Pete’s money, but he’s focused on Gabe’s hands, watching his long fingers as he mixes espresso and chocolate and half and half. “You want it blended or just on ice?”

“Um. Blended?”

Gabe nods as Pete goes to the pick up counter. Pete glances at Jake. He’s sitting at the table with his head down on his arms, his face turned to one side and his eyes closed. Pete sucks in a breath at the sight and, for a moment, everything else falls away. He walks to the table and sits next to him, stroking Jake’s blond hair with his hand. 

“Hey.”

His eyes open and he looks at Pete. “Hi.”

“You okay?”

“Tired.”

“We’ll have a snack then head home, okay? Watch a movie or something. Read some books.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, little dude?”

“I love you.”

Pete blinks hard at the rush of tears that cloud his eyes. “I love you too. Hang in there just a bit more, okay?”

“Yeah.” He yawns and closes his eyes again. Pete leans in and rests his head against Jake’s, just breathing in the scent of apple shampoo and the clean dampness that passes for sweat in little kids. He knows he needs to get up to get their drinks, but he doesn’t want to move and break this moment. 

“Here you go,” Gabe says softly, setting both drinks on the table. Pete looks up and smiles his thanks, and Gabe smiles back. “And cookies.” He takes two cookies out of his apron pocket and sets them down as well. “Don’t want to forget those.”

Jake raises his head and eyes Gabe. “You’re the super guy.”

Gabe’s grin makes Pete’s heart clench in a totally different way, and seriously, coffee is bad for his mental health. “That’s me.” He leans in and looks around then at Jake. “Don’t tell anyone though. I’m in my secret identity.”

“Because it’s not a cape?”

“Right on.” Gabe holds out his fist and Jake bumps it with his own, and Pete has to grab his drink and suck half of it down to cool the flash of heat that goes off inside him. “You are a master of the super hero world, kiddo. I bet you’re one of us.”

“My dad has a secret identity.”

“He does, huh?” Gabe aims his smile at Pete, and Pete’s going to need another coffee to cool down at the rate he’s downing this one. “A whole family of super heroes. Awesome.”

Pete watches him go and then shakes his head, handing Jake his straw. He opens it carefully this time and lets Pete help him push it through the lid. He’s always careful when he’s tired, like he’s afraid he’s going to mess things up. Pete’s familiar with the feeling. Some traits he really wishes weren’t inherited.

The place stays quiet and Pete unwraps both cookies, one of which he’s sure he didn’t order, and breaks them into pieces. They sit there, alternating bites with sips of their drinks, his own chair close enough to Jake’s that Jake can lean on him. He can tell when he falls asleep by the difference in the way Jake’s weight presses against him, and he takes care to wrap up what’s left of the cookies and stuff them in his pocket before shifting enough to grab Jake and lift him, resting him on his hip, his head against Pete’s shoulder.

“Let me get the door.” Gabe moves around Pete and opens the door, blinking against the heat and sunlight. 

“Thanks.”

“It was good to see you again.”

“You too.” Pete is glad of Jake’s weight, unsure what to do with his hand, so he curves it under the other, helping to support him. “Thanks for the cookie.”

“Any time.” Gabe glances at Jake and then back at the counter. Without another word, he takes a napkin from his apron and shoves it into the pocket of Pete’s jeans. He barely pushes his fingers past the seam, but Pete gets uncomfortably hard at just the minimum contact. 

“Um.”

“No pressure.” He shrugs and steps back. “Have a nice day.”

Pete gets Jake out to the car and strapped into his car seat. He makes himself get in and turn the engine on and wait until cool air starts to blow through the vents before he tugs the napkin free. It’s written in black Sharpie, so the ink has bled a little, but the coffee shop’s logo is scrawled over with very clear, precise numbers. No pressure. Right. Okay.

Pete sighs and puts the car in gear. 

Shit.

**

He’s only had drip coffee at home for the past ten days, and Pete knows that there’s probably an intervention coming up somewhere in his future. He’s biting people’s heads off, most notably Sabrina’s every time she calls to check on the progress of the book. He can’t sleep, his writing is shit, and Jake’s in a whiny phase that’s probably Pete’s fault. 

Gabe’s phone number is sitting on his desk like some looming reminder of Pete’s complete inability to take action. His own phone is sitting on top of the napkin, the number of missed calls and messages increasing every time he glances at it. Jake’s spending the night at Hilary’s house because Pete has one day until his deadline and he’s nowhere near finished. He’s almost tempted to print the whole damn thing so he can burn it, because destroying it in fire seems like the only fitting option. 

Except the sex is _really_ hot. 

The act of undressing and showing skin is, by nature of the era its set in, a drawn-out process, which adds to the anticipation, but Pete also had to go back and edit down both of the major sex scenes because he went a little too far in his descriptions, and better to edit them himself than have Sabrina or anyone else ask him questions.

It’s possible he might have done a little projecting.

His phone vibrates again and he picks it up, thumbing through the list of people he’s been ignoring. Mikey. Travis. Corinne. Sabrina. About what he expected. The text messages get more and more annoyed and he doesn’t even bother to listen to his messages. He knows Jake’s fine, because Hilary has explicit directions to call his home phone if anything’s wrong, so everything else isn’t worth worrying about. Of course, now that he’s holding the phone, he can see Gabe’s number clearly, even though he’s already got it memorized.

It’s three in the afternoon on a Thursday. Calling this number is the stupidest thing Pete can probably do. Of course, his life seems to be a litany of stupid things. He pushes the numbers to program it into his phone, then hits dial. And hangs up. Then hits dial again. 

After the fourth hang up, he tosses the phone onto the desk and drops his head down, covering it with his arms. When the phone vibrates, he fumbles in his drawer for his pill bottle and pops half a Xanax, downing it with cold coffee and answers it before it gets to the final buzz. “Wentz.”

“Oh, good.” Gabe laughs. “I was hoping I was going to get you and not some creepy telemarketer.”

“I could be a creepy telemarketer. You don’t actually know.” He picks up his pen and drags a piece of scratch paper over in front of him, doodling a small box with an arrow sticking out of it. “Maybe our new strategy is getting people’s phone numbers at coffee shops and then specifically targeting them for products.”

“That seems like a lot of work.”

“No one said I worked for a _smart_ telemarketing firm.” He draws another box and then an alien with a black heart. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You’re not working?”

“Thursday is my day off.”

“Oh.” Another alien, this one reaching to grab the other one’s heart. “I’m supposed to be writing.”

“But you’re not?”

“Well, I have been. But it sucks. It’s stilted and awkward and just bad. First draft is due tomorrow.” He starts drawing eyes all over the page, looking all around the room, none staring at him. “What are you doing?”

“Just got back from a bike ride. I was about to shower and watch bad TV.”

“Oh.” Pete draws a bicycle and tries to imagine Gabe on it. It’s harder than he likes to admit. “You could watch bad TV at my house.”

Gabe laughs softly. “Do you have a lot of bad TV saved on your DVR?”

“I have fifteen hours of Sesame Street and a lot of stuff that I’ve never watched and probably never will. Some of it might be bad.” He drops his pen and chews on his thumbnail. “So, if you want to take a chance.”

“What’s your address?”

“Um.” Pete blanks completely. “I don’t…shit.” 

“Careful. That word is dangerous in your house.”

Pete laughs. “Nah. Jake’s over at my sister’s house so I can write. It’s safe for all curse words.” He finds an envelope on his desk and reads off his address. “I promise I’m not a complete idiot.”

“I didn’t think you were. Be there in a half hour? You want me to bring anything?”

“Only if you want something weird. I mean, I have soda and juice and water and maybe beer and there’s food. Snack crackers, Cheeri-Os, um…stuff. I have a lot of stuff.”

“Okay. Half hour it is.”

Pete hangs up and sits frozen for a minute and then panic sets in. He dials Mikey frantically and nearly tumbles out of his chair in his hurry to get out of it. He has to clean and actually make sure he _does_ have stuff on the TiVo that’s rated above Y7 and he has to shower and be presentable.

“Hey, Pete. Asshole.”

“Should I wear cologne?”

“What?”

“I think I have a date? Only…it’s not a date. I have to write and he’s going to watch bad TV, but it’s at my house, which is like a date because there are couches and beds and other things to make out on and I think maybe I should slap on some Old Spice.”

“You’re not an Old Spice guy, Pete.”

“I think I have some Drakkar Noir from when I was in high school. I wonder what it smells like now.”

“Probably like you should throw it away. Take a deep breath.”

Pete does, then takes another one. “Is this a date, Mikey? Did I ask someone out on a date? I don’t date. I haven’t dated since I dated Elizabeth. Which was a long time ago. Have things changed? Should I have sex with him? What if he wants to do weird stuff? What if Jake hates him? Oh, god.”

“Pete.” Mikey’s voice is sharp and stops the hamster wheel of panic abruptly, and Pete’s brain feels like it’s flying across his skull. “The guy’s coming over. You’ll talk. You’ll watch TV. Maybe you will kiss him.”

“I’ve never had sex with a guy, Mikey. Not sex-sex.”

Mikey’s reply is dry as dust. “Yes. I know, Pete.”

“Oh. Yeah. Um.”

“But here’s the thing. You don’t have to have sex with him. Ever, but especially not today. Pretty sure the last thing you need is to go too far with the first date with the first person you’ve spent any significant time with since Elizabeth died.”

“So it is a date. Oh, god.” Pete sinks down on the couch and groans, dropping his head to his knees. “I can call him back and tell him not to come over. And then I can go out and have lots of casual sex so that I won’t seem like a complete…I don’t know. What’s the word for someone who has no idea what they’re doing?”

“You know how to do things, Pete.”

“I _haven’t_ though. In years. Two years. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to be impressed with how good I am with my right hand.”

“I don’t know.” Mikey’s voice doesn’t really change, but Pete can hear his smile nonetheless. “He might be.”

“You’re a mean and horrible person.” Pete rubs his face with his hand. “Okay. I can do this, right? I used to date people. I dated lots of people.”

“You did. You were kind of a whore.”

“ _Hey!_.” Mikey stays silent and Pete huffs a laugh. “I wasn’t a _whore_. I was friendly.”

“Right. Friendly. Sure. That’s a word for it.” Mikey laughs too. “Just relax and get to know him. Have a good time. Do what comes natural.”

“Babble and act like an idiot?”

“Okay, do what comes natural for most people.”

“Right.” Pete exhales. “Christ. He’s going to be here soon. I have to clean. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Call me.” 

Pete hangs up and stands, looking around the room. Nothing’s really out of place. It has the lived-in feel that a three-year-old gives a place, and Pete doesn’t see any LEGO minefields lurking anywhere. He fluffs the couch throw pillows and then rearranges them and then throws them onto the chairs and then grabs them all and stuffs them into the closet. He’s dragging them back out when the doorbell rings.

“Hey.” He opens the door and smiles, probably looking manic. “Come on in.”

Gabe walks inside, his hands in his jacket pockets. Pete’s reminded of how tall he is when he walks in and Pete doesn’t quite reach his shoulders. There is no way this isn’t going to be awkward. “Hey. Thanks for the invite. Bad TV is always better with someone to mock it with.”

“What if I seriously enjoy bad TV?” Pete shuts the door and picks up the throw pillow he’d dropped when the doorbell rang. “Unironically and everything?”

Gabe stops and looks back at him. “Do you?”

“I might.”

“Hmm. I hadn’t considered that. Can we order pizza?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you’re forgiven, but I might mock you instead.” Gabe smiles and Pete realizes right then and there he’s never stood a chance. 

“I haven’t dated since my wife died. Before she died. She died. You know. I told you she’s dead, right?”

“Yeah. You mentioned it.” Gabe takes his hands out of his pockets and rubs them on his hips. “But it’s good. I mean, not that she’s dead. Fuck, I’m not some weirdo. That you invited me over.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Pete smiles and gestures at the living room with his pillow. “You want to sit down? You want a drink? Food? I mean, we can order pizza or I have frozen stuff. And snacks. I have snacks. How do you feel about goldfish crackers?”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

Pete blinks at him. “They’re…not really fish?”

“I know, man. I’m shitting you. How about a Coke or something?”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay. Hang on.” Pete goes into the kitchen and grabs a couple of Cokes as well as some hummus and pre-cut vegetables. He takes a couple of deep breaths and lets them out slowly and evenly. He’s an adult. He has pre-cut vegetables. He can do this. 

Gabe’s sitting on the couch, his long legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. Pete is pretty sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue, but he doesn’t have enough brain cells available to try talking to see. Instead he just sets the snacks down on the coffee table and sits down, handing the remote to Gabe.

“Dude. Hummus. You’re awesome. Are those Greek olives? Shit.” He sits forward and grabs one of the small plates and dishes himself up carrots and olives and celery and peppers and scoops a pile of hummus onto his plate. Pete smiles to himself, ducking his head. Gabe grabs the remote as he settles back and thumbs through the menu. He offers commentary on most of the shows and titles, stopping when he gets to some cooking show. “Oh, man. Do you watch this? This is fucking insane.” He stretches his legs out again and settles in, munching happily.

Pete makes a plate for himself and then sets it on the table, half watching the show and half watching Gabe. Gabetalks back to the screen and looks at Pete and keeps up a running commentary. He’s smart and he’s sharp and he’s funny, and Pete’s hyper-conscious that pretty much every food he has on his plate is a phallic symbol, so eating is absolutely out of the question.

During one of the commercials, instead of fast forwarding, Gabe lets it play, turning his head to look at Pete. “So, is this a date?”

“I don’t…um.”

“Because you seem maybe kind of interested. But you also have a kid and a wife.”

“Ex-wife. Well, not ex. Dead. There was a car accident. She died. So she’s not in the picture anymore.”

Gabe turns and leans against the arm of the couch, bending his knees and resting his sock-covered feet on the cushion. It’s not quite a barrier, but it’s not exactly the easy open stance Pete wants either. “Have you ever dated a guy?”

“Yeah. Before Elizabeth. There was a guy. Mikey. We dated, I guess. I guess it was dating. We hung out. We made out. He blew me a couple times. There were handjobs.”

“And then?”

“And then he went away for the summer and met someone else, and I met Elizabeth and we dated and fell in love and got married and had a kid.” He shakes his head, smiling sadly. “She wasn’t some way to prove my heterosexuality or anything. I mean, she knew about Mikey and everything. And she knew I sometimes had things for guys. But she was really cool. I could look but not touch, bring it all home to her, you know? She’d talk about it in bed. About what I wanted to do to them, what I wanted them to do to me. She made it sound ten times dirtier than it was, made it…I don’t know.”

“That’s cool. That she was good with it.”

“She loved me.” Pete looks down at his hand where his ring sat for so long. “And I loved her. And we made Jake, which is amazing. And I have no idea what I want or what I’m doing and I haven’t dated anyone since her and I haven’t had sex with anyone since like two months after she died when I went to a writer’s conference and hooked up with someone who could buy and sell my career in a heartbeat, so we just pretend like it never happened.”

“And then you met me.”

“Yeah. Oh, shit.” Pete takes a drink of his Coke and groans. “Sorry. That was a huge narrative faux pas. I’m supposed to show, you know? Not tell. Not spew my life story out at you like I’m some sort of teenager full of feelings.”

Gabe laughs. “It’s cool. But, you know, go ahead. Show me.”

Pete stares at him for a long moment, full of silence and something more. He sets his drink down and gets to his knees, leaning across the distance to rest one hand on the arm of the sofa next to Gabe’s head. “God, I hope this is what you meant, because…”

“Pete.” Gabe shakes his head and puts a hand against the nape of Pete’s neck, pulling him in and murmuring softly, just before he kisses him. “Shut up.”

Pete makes a low noise in his throat as Gabe’s lips meet his, soft and gentle. He can feel the muscles in his arm quivering and the rest of him feels like it’s some sort of radioactive Jell-O. Soft and shaky and hard all at once. He pulls back and licks his lips. “I want to…”

Gabe brushes his lips over Pete’s, and Pete can feel his smile. “Then do it.”

He nods a little and presses his mouth to Gabe’s again, his tongue teasing at his lips. Gabe parts them, just a little, and Pete breathes him in. It’s a moment out of time, that frozen second before a kiss, before the first _real_ kiss, and he hangs onto it as long as he can. 

He loves kissing. He loves everything about the way it feels, the way mouths press and slide apart, hints of saliva and moisture holding them together a little bit longer than they’re meant to last. The way mouths open with soft huffs of breath and then that all disappears, lost in the slide of tongues, the sharp edges of teeth. Gabe’s letting him control the kiss, take it all as fast or slow as he wants. He wants to push past all the tentativeness and kiss him hard, grind down against him and feel something like relief, but he has to keep going slow, tasting and teasing and pulling away to catch his breath, his chest hurting like he’s running a marathon.

“Easy,” Gabe murmurs, his fingers brushing Pete’s hair back from his face. “Got all the time in the world.”

“Jake’ll be home at eight. Bath and then bed time.”

“Okay, well, we’ve got a few hours. That’s a lot of time. Relax.” He arches up just enough to press a kiss to the tip of Pete’s nose, and Pete makes another small sound. 

He’s written about kisses of every kind, but nothing is equal to how the real thing feels, no matter what pretty words he uses. 

Gabe’s hands are warm on his body, one on Pete’s hip and one splayed over his clavicle, thumb rubbing against the collar of his t-shirt. Pete looks down at him, watching the flutter of Gabe’s lashes as he opens his eyes before dropping his gaze to the soft, wet part of his lips. “Wow.”

“Shh.” Gabe’s hand slides up to his neck again and pulls him down, kissing him again. “Stop talking. Really.”

Pete nods and shifts closer, moving his hand from the arm of the couch down to the cushion, lowering himself on top of him. There’s still some distance between them, but Gabe tilts his head, deepening the kiss and Pete arches into him, easing his body between Gabe’s spread legs.

The soft sound Gabe makes melts into Pete’s mouth and he rolls his hips and feels the hard bulge of Gabe’s dick. He gasps in return and breaks the kiss, dropping his head against Gabe’s shoulder and sucking in air. “Fuck. Holy…holy fuck.”

“It’s okay.” Gabe’s hand strokes along Pete’s back, palm cupping the side of his torso, rubbing against his t-shirt slowly. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“Sorry. God, you must think I’m a complete idiot or something.”

“I think,” Gabe breathes, his voice low and warm against Pete’s ear, “that you feel good.”

Pete shivers, his breath stuttering out of him as his hips roll once more, and he can feel the slide of his dick along Gabe’s. “I…shit, I…” He pulls away, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, trying to catch his breath. “Okay. I. Um.” He closes his eyes tight and rubs them with the heels of his hands. “Shit.” He can feel Gabe sit up, stretching his legs out in front of him again as he adjusts himself. Pete won’t allow himself to look, but he sees the movement out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He reaches out and rubs Pete’s shoulder. “You told me it’d been a long time. It’s okay.”

“I want to. I mean, I _really_ want to. Like. You felt my dick, right? There was a lot of wanting to in there.”

Gabe laughs and shakes his head. "All wanting was duly noted, I promise."

Pete nods. "So. Um. Tell me about you."

"Not much to tell. I work at a coffee shop not owned by a major corporation and I play in a local jazz band and I watch a lot of bad TV."

"A jazz band?"

"Yeah. I mean, everyone in LA wants to be an actor, right? So I'm fighting a stereotype."

"Couldn't you just fight it by not being an actor?"

"Well, yeah, but that's kind of boring, don't you think?" Gabe laughs again, and Pete thinks the sound is really addictive. 

"Well, I mean, yeah, but jazz band is totally awesome. Unless you're in high school. Well, it's awesome if you're _in_ it in high school, as long as, like, no one knows and tortures you because of it." He pauses to breathe, and Gabe's still smiling, even though Pete knows he probably sounds manic. "What do you play?"

"Stand up bass."

Pete's fairly certain his hard on just increased by multiple degrees. "...oh."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. No. Not...I could come see you play sometime maybe. If that's cool. I mean, okay. Is that cool?"

"Sure. I'll let you know when we have our next gig."

"That'd be...I'd like that." Pete looks at the TV and realizes he has no idea what's going on on the screen or in his life right now. "Did you want to order pizza?"

"Sure." Gabe reaches over and catches Pete's chin, turning him to face him. "Are you okay? I mean, is this too much? Too fast? You want me to bail?"

"I...I don't know." He shrugs, but he's being honest. "I'm kind of..."

"Yeah." Gabe exhales and rolls his shoulders. "I'll tell you what. You order pizza. I'm going to borrow your , then we'll hang out. No pressure."

"Okay. But, um..." Gabe lifts his eyebrow in question, and he waits for Pete to go on. "Well, when you...you're holding my chin, and well..." He's blushing hot enough that his ears are burning.

"You want me to kiss you?" It's phrased as a questions, but it's clear that it's not from the low, hot growl of Gabe's voice.

Pete's breath catches in his chest and, if he didn't turn the resulting noise into a choked yes, he's fairly sure it would have come out as the most undignified noise ever. He's not actually sure it's dignified either way.

Gabe leans in, closing the distance between them. His lips are firm and warm, and Pete moans a little, which gives Gabe the opening he needs to slide his tongue in Pete's mouth. 

For some reason, this feels hotter, more intense, since no other part of them is touching. Even Gabe's hand on his chin has fallen away. Pete clenches his hands into fists on his thighs, opening and closing them, his nails scratching at the denim of his jeans.

Gabe seems intent on turning him to liquid, melting him from the inside out. He's exploring the surfaces of Pete's mouth with his tongue. It's hot and wet and perfect, and Pete moans again, overwhelmed by it all.

When Gabe pulls back, Pete nearly falls forward into his lap before he catches himself. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out at all.

"Order pizza, huh?"

"Yeah. Pizza. Yeah." He gets to his feet, just a little unstable, and goes into the kitchen. He turns on the cold water and dunks his head under the spray, soaking the collar of his shirt. He rubs his face with his hands then combs his fingers back through his hair. He's hard and horny and he wants to duck into the other bathroom and jerk off. That thought makes his cock twitch, and he has to go over to the fridge and put his head in the freezer.

After a few minutes, his hair is cold, but nothing else is different, so he grabs the phone and orders a bunch of different kinds of pizza as well as garlic cheese bread and chicken wings. When he gets back into the living room, Gabe's on the couch again, thumbing through channels.

"I ordered. I forgot to ask what you liked, so I sort of ordered a lot."

"I'm mostly vegetarian, but I do eat cheese."

"I bought a plain cheese. And a vegetarian. And one that has a lot of artichokes and olives and mushrooms and white sauce, but it's got chicken too, and I guess that's meat, so that wouldn't work."

"It's cool." Gabe sets the remote down and sits cross-legged, pulling his feet up on the cushions. "You sure you want me to stay? I make you nervous."

"A little. Not bad nervous though. Good nervous. The whole 'it's been a really long time since I've been interested in somebody and holy shit, you're really hot' sort of nervous."

"I could go."

"No! No. I mean, I ordered a lot of pizza, you know. Stay. Hang." He forces himself to breathe, counting until it's habit again. Gabe watches TV, not ignoring him, but comfortable. 

The pizza shows up and Gabe laughs at the six different pies. "You could have just asked me what I liked."

"Jake and I love pizza. It'll get eaten. He and Hilary should be home soon, and they'll probably devour it. I'd keep an eye on your fingers."

"You want me to bail before they get here?"

"Why would I want that?"

"Family. Meeting people. It can be awkward."

"You've already met Jake; he's the only one that matters. Plus he thinks you're a superhero, so, you know, you're the coolest guy I know in his book.”

"The best thing about kids is how easily impressed they are."

"Nah, man. Kids'll call you on your bullshit faster than anyone else. Trust me. I have a lot of experience with that."

"Fair enough." Gabe takes a bite of pizza and grins wolfishly. "I'll consider myself warned."

**

"Damn it." Pete smacks the keyboard and then drops his head in his hands. His swashbuckling Spaniard hero keeps grinning at him in his head, making Pete want to ignore the book and go to the coffee shop and flirt badly with Gabe. He'd entertained Jake over pizza, and Hilary had raised her eyebrows higher and higher every time she'd caught Pete's gaze. Pete had herded her out of the house when Gabe left just so she couldn't give him the third degree, and he's managed to avoid all of her calls so far.

"Daddy, bad word." Jake is lying on the floor on his stomach, his feet up in the air. He'd come in from his bedroom while Pete was mid-scene and settled down to play, so Pete had kept trying to write. "No bad words."

"Sorry, duder." Pete saves his work and stretches out on the floor with him, imitating his pose. "What are you playing? And what happened to your nap?"

"I sleeped some." Jake pushes a car across the stretch of carpet in front of him. "Now I play cars." He runs one of them into the other, then throws it up in the air. “Boom. Go dead like Mommy.”

Pete nearly chokes, ducking his head down and staring at the carpet for a minute, composing himself before he looks over at Jake. “You miss Mommy?”

“No.” It makes sense. Jake was just a few months old when Elizabeth died. “I is supposed to. Daddy misses Mommy.”

“I do.” Pete gathers the cars, turning one of them over and over in his hands. “You want to go to Red Swing Park?”

“Daddy do book work.”

“Daddy would rather hang at the park with you. What do you say?”

“Hot chocolate after?”

“Hot chocolate at home?”

“No. Shop, Daddy. Super hot chocolate.”

“I’m not sure the super barista is working, little dude.”

“Can see.”

“Yeah.” Pete smiles at him. “Yeah. We can.”

**

Jake falls asleep again in the car, so Pete drives around for a while, letting him nap. After about an hour, he pulls up to the coffee shop and parks, humming along with the radio. He can’t see through the smoked glass, so he can’t tell if Gabe’s working not, and he’s not completely sure what he’s hoping for. Either way, it’s past time to wake Jake up and get something to drink. He swings his car door open as the front door of the shop opens, and Gabe comes out dressed in shorts and wheeling a bike. 

“Oh. Hey.” Pete blushes, realizing he’s probably starting to look like a stalker.

“Hey!” Gabe smiles and comes over to Pete’s car. He looks in the back window, and his grin widens. “It’s the little man. Aw, I missed you guys.”

“You’re going for a ride?” Pete wishes the ground would swallow him up. “I mean, um, obviously.”

“Just heading home. What are you guys up to?”

“We were going to the park, but Jake crashed out. I thought we’d get something to drink and then see if he still wants to go.”

“The park, huh?”

“Yeah.” Pete bites his lower lip, balancing himself on the outside edges of his shoes. “You know. Swings. Teeter-totter. There’s even one of those, like, spinning things that you shouldn’t go on because they’re dangerous.”

“Man, everything we had when we were kids is illegal now. It’s a wonder any of us made it to adulthood.” Gabe straddles his bike, and Pete gets caught up staring at his long legs, his skin tan, the dark hairs in sharp contrast to his neon yellow socks. “I ride through the park on my way home.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You guys want company?”

“Sure. Um, you want to stash your bike in the back while I get drinks?”

“Why don’t you stash the bike and I’ll grab the drinks. I get a discount.” He slides off the bike, waiting for Pete to grab the handlebars. “Caramel macchiato and an apple juice?”

“Nah. He’s jonesin’ for a hot chocolate today.”

“Got it.” Pete watches Gabe jog back to the shop for a moment until the bell on the shop door rings and he realizes he’s staring. 

“Shit, Wentz. Get it together.” He wheels Gabe’s bike back to the rear of the SUV and manhandles it inside. He climbs back in the car, tapping the steering wheel nervously. 

“Park, Daddy?”

“In a minute. Super dude is getting us drinks. But no hot chocolate until we’re at the park, okay.”

“Hot spills is bad.”

“Are bad. And yes.” Pete curves his hand around the wheel. He’s pretty sure Gabe’s not going to ditch his bike just to avoid him, so there’s a really good chance he hasn’t ducked out the back door or anything. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he exhales when Gabe comes out with a bag in one hand and a drink carrier in the other.

“Hold these?” Gabe hands both to Pete then slings his backpack into the footwell before climbing in the car. “Jake. Dude. How’s it going?”

“Is good.”

“I am good,” Pete corrects him, handing Gabe the snacks once Gabe’s buckled. “We’re working on verbs.”

“Verbs are tricky.” Gabe puts the bag by his feet then reaches back to give Jake a high five. “You’ll master them.”

“You like the park?” Pete can see Jake bouncing in the rear view mirror, grinning at Gabe. “What you like best?”

“The swings.” Gabe turns his body slightly, looking back at Jake and practically facing  
Pete. “What about you?”

“Dinosaur!”

“Whoa!” Gabe gasps. “No one told me there’s a dinosaur at the park! Is it a herbivore?”

“T-Rex!”

“A T-rex?” Gabe’s eyes are wide. “No _way_.”

“Is true!” Jake leans forward against his seat belt buckles, giggling. “is true!”

“How do you keep it from eating you? Do you wrap yourself up in plants?”

“No, silly!” Pete loves the sound of Jake’s laughter, and when he glances at Gabe, Gabe’s eyes are bright with amusement, despite the frightened look on his face. “Is not _real_!”

“Oh. Whew.” Gabe slumps back against his seat in relief. “I was super scared, dude.”

“No is _real_.” Jake’s still giggling, covering his face with his hands. Gabe winks at Pete, and if Pete thought he was gone on this guy before, it’s nothing compared to how _utterly_ gone his is now. “Daddy. He thoughts was _real_.”

“I know. Silly Gabe, huh?” Pete is considering holding the bike hostage forever and making Gabe go home with him and kiss him until Pete doesn’t have the brain power to say stop.

“Oh, so, hey.” Gabe waits until they’re at the park, following Jake’s pell-mell run to the dinosaur-shaped play structure. “So, my band. We’ve got this gig tomorrow night, and I was wondering if-”

“Yes.”

Gabe cocks an eyebrow. “Oh. Oh, well then.”

“Wait. No.” Pete shakes his head and reaches out, touching Gabe’s arm before he drops it quickly, embarrassed. “No oh well. Why are you oh welling?”

“I thought you might want to come.”

“I do! You asked and I said yes!”

“I was going to ask if you were busy. You said yes.”

Pete bumps into him, and Gabe holds the drinks out of the way so they don’t spill. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah,” Gabe laughs. “It’s at Rico’s over in Hermosa Beach. Nothing fancy.”

“I really want to see you play.” They settle at a picnic table, watching Jake as he climbs and jumps and roars at the other kids. Gabe’s hands are on the table, wrapped around his coffee, but Pete can see the hard calluses on his fingertips. He’d barely noticed the other night, so caught up in just being _touched_ , but now he keeps thinking about how they would feel on his skin. “I mean, if you’re cool with it.”

“I’m pretty sure inviting you means I’m cool with it, dude.” Gabe looks at Jake and smiles. “He’s got Jurassic Park going on out there, man.”

“Ha. Yeah. Hopefully there won’t be any spitting venom this time.” He finishes his coffee and tosses the cup in the trash. “I’m going to go check on things.”

Jake’s fine and Pete knows it, but he needs a bit of perspective, distance from Gabe before he does or says something stupid and gets himself in trouble. Jake sees him and roars, so Pete roars back, taking off after him. They race around the park, other kids joining in. Jake shrieks with delight when Gabe jumps in too, his long arms flailing, and his long legs covering huge strides of territory.

Pete stops for a moment and watches as Jake turns, running after Gabe with an even louder roar. Gabe roars back then runs away, kicking his legs out comically. Pete laughs for a moment before he pitches forward, falling to the ground under a pile of five other roaring dinosaur kids.

He surrenders and they all take off after Jake and Gabe, bringing Gabe down as well in a heap next to Pete. “These kids are vicious.”

Pete nods. “It’s Lord of the Flies around here.” He grabs Jake and tugs him into his lap. “Getting late, Dino-man. Shall we go home and make dinner?”

“What’s for dinner, Daddy?”

“Fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.”

“Yay!” Jake scrambles to his feet and turns around, hugging Pete’s neck. “That my favorite!”

Pete grins. “Yeah. This week. Go say goodbye to your fellow dinosaurs.”

Jake heads for his friends, and Pete can’t help smiling as he watches him. Something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he looks up at Gabe. He’s standing and holding out his hand, so Pete grabs it and lets Gabe pull him to his feet. He can feel the heat of Gabe’s body and the temptation to press close is hard to resist.

“You want a ride home?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but your bike’s already in the car.” Pete scoops up Jake as he comes running at him, swinging him up on his shoulders. “It’s no trouble.”

“Sure.” Gabe grins at him. “You know, with him on your shoulders, you’re almost a normal-sized person.”

“Or,” Pete drawls, jabbing Gabe with Jake’s foot. “I could keep your bike, take off and strand you here.”

“No nice, Daddy.” Jake pats the top of Gabe’s head. “It’s okay. Me make Daddy be nice.”

“Right. Gotta set an example.” Pete unlocks the doors and hoists Jake off his shoulders before settling him in his car seat and getting him secured. “Hop in.”

Gabe does as he’s told, already buckled in by the time Pete climbs into the car. He starts it up and heads out of the park, following Gabe’s directions. It’s clear before too long that there’s no way in the world Gabe rides through the park to get home from work, but Pete doesn’t say anything. When he looks at Gabe and raises an eyebrow, Gabe just shrugs at him and smiles, swinging out of the car and grabbing his backpack as soon as Pete parks. 

Pete climbs out and helps him get the bike out of the back, though it’s more in theory than in practice, since Gabe’s taller and has longer arms. “You’ll send me the info on your gig this weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“You lied about the park.”

Gabe nods and curves his hands around the handlebars. “Maybe. A little. Sometimes I take the long way and do ride through the park. I mean, I’ve been in the park before.”

“No more lying.”

“Fair enough.” Gabe glances at the SUV and then leans in, brushing a quick kiss across Pete’s cheek. Pete’s lips part and he looks up at Gabe. “Saturday. I’ll see you then, okay?”

“Yeah. Saturday. I can...” Pete waves as Gabe walks toward his apartment and then climbs in the car. Jake’s playing with a stuffed dinosaur and not paying any attention. Pete rubs his cheek and smiles to himself. “You ready for dinner, buddy?”

“Hungry dinosaur, Daddy.”

“Me too.”

**

By the time he gets to Rico’s, Pete’s out of breath and running a half hour late. Jake hadn’t taken a nap, so right when Pete was ready to leave, he threw a fit and a bowl of ravioli, spraying Pete with sauce. There there had been punishment and clean up and changing and another screaming fit that had ended with Jake sobbing in his bedroom and Pete feeling like shit for fleeing the scene. Hilary had practically shoved him out the door, but he still feels guilty for leaving her to deal with it and for leaving Jake upset.

When he gets inside, the restaurant is full, and he can hear the music coming  from the next room. He follows the sound, slipping through the crowd and working his way into the bar. There are four guys on the stage along with Gabe, one on a trumpet, one on a sax, one on piano, and one on a guitar. The audience seems to be enjoying them, but Pete’s caught on how much fun Gabe seems to be having. His hair is damp with sweat and he’s twirling his bass, slapping it with his hand, and grinning like a maniac. 

Pete squeezes through to the bar and orders a beer, sipping it as he watches. The music is infectious, and several people are dancing, a mix of swing and other things Pete knows must have names. He can’t keep his eyes off Gabe for long, especially when they launch into a song that has him laughing out loud, catcalling the singer and getting into a lyrical battle with him. 

The set ends after three more songs, and the band takes their bows, promising they’ll be back for more in a half hour. Pete orders a beer for Gabe and waves at him, not even sure he can see the bar in the glare of the lights. Gabe lays his bass on the floor and hops down into the still crowded dance floor. Several people stop him, touching him and talking to him, and Pete tamps down a wave of completely irrational jealousy. Gabe’s just a friend. Nothing more. 

“Hey.” Gabe drops onto the stool next to Pete. “Please tell me that is for me.”

“Yeah.” Pete slides the beer over to him. It’s sweating in the bottle, and Gabe rolls it over his forehead before he takes a long drink. “That’s hard work.”

“Best work. Hell of a lot better than shilling coffee, though coffee pays better.” Gabe takes another drink and grins at him widely. “I’m glad you came. I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”

“Jake had some separation anxiety as well as a bowl of ravioli and really good aim.” Pete gives him a rueful smile. “I think he was actually angry that I got to hang out with you and he didn’t.”

“We’re performing at a street fair in a couple of weeks. You should bring him along.”

“Yeah? I mean, you don’t mind?” Pete can feel his blush and takes a drink of his beer to try to cover it. “I mean, why would you mind? I mean, I know that...shit.”

“Ah-ah.” Gabe smiles and taps the end of Pete’s nose with his beer bottle. “Bad word.”

“Don’t start. It’s bad enough with him.” Pete laughs and looks around. “You guys draw a pretty big crowd.”

“We’ve got some devoted followers, plus I bribed them all with free desserts.”

“Cookies from the coffee shop?”

“You’ve caught on to my game.” Gabe finishes his beer and sets the empty bottle on the bar. “I have to confess though. I didn’t bring you a cookie.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.” He turns slightly, his hand brushing Pete’s thigh. “I was hoping that I could bribe you with something else.”

“What...” Pete licks his lips and exhales roughly. “What’d you have in mind?”

“That depends. How late can your babysitter stay?”

“She’s spending the night.”

“Come home with me.” Gabe moves his hand away, but his eyes stay on Pete, hot and dark. “Do what you want. Go as far as you want.”

“Yes. Yeah. I want that.” He nods several times, unable to stop. “Now?”

“I have two more sets to get through. You want to wait backstage with my stuff or you want to stay out here?”

“I want to watch, if that’s okay.”

Gabe waggles his eyebrows. “Yeah. I’m okay with you watching me.”

Pete’s pretty sure that he might overheat if he keeps blushing this much. “Okay. So I’ll sit. Out here. And watch.”

**

Gabe's house is a mother-in-law cottage behind something that looks like it came from another time when California was something that spread out comfortably along the coast, rather than something grown too tight around the middle. He unlocks the door, leading Pete down a hallway filled with Gabe's bike and several backpacks. The main room has a kitchen that's separated from the rest by a counter. There's an extra-long couch, a TV, and a stand-up bass in the corner surrounded by three bass guitars.

Gabe watches him, and Pete feels the heat of his gaze, knowing what comes next, what Gabe's waiting for. It doesn't make it any easier to deal with the unfamiliar, overwhelming heat in his chest. Coming up behind him, Gabe trails a light hand over Pete's shoulders. Pete starts slightly and Gabe laughs. "Relax. I don't bite."

"I'm not sure I believe that."

"Ha. Fair." Gabe moves his hand to the nape of Pete's neck, his thumb rubbing a light line up to his hairline. "As slow as you need."

"I need...I really need you to kiss me."

Gabe's hand tightens and he turns Pete to face him, looking at him seriously for a few seconds before he lowers his head and presses his mouth to Pete's. The taste of Gabe's mouth – beer and sweat and heat – breaks something loose inside Pete and he moans, pressing closer. Gabe slides his arms around him and Pete lifts up on his toes to get even closer. Gabe mutters something against Pete's mouth, possibly in Spanish for all Pete has the mental capacity to understand, but he does understand what it means when Gabe starts walking him backwards across the room. He moves with him, the height difference making it slightly awkward.

Gabe breaks the kiss, and Pete stares up at him, caught up in the sound and feel of his own rough breathing. "Wha...why'd you stop?"

Taking a step closer, Gabe backs Pete against the wall. Pete's breath hitches and the way Gabe looks at him makes it even harder to breathe. Gabe's thumb slides over Pete's lower lip, and Pete can feel the callused skin tugging at his wet, parted lips. "I want to fuck you."

Pete's entire body shudders. "I..."

"I know." Gabe's voice is pure heat and promise. “I know. I just want _you_ to know."

Pete slides his hand up around Gabe's neck and pulls him down, closing his eyes tight as he kisses him. It's hot and hungry and Gabe wraps an arm around Pete's waist, pulling him in close. He feels the curve of Gabe's dick and he groans. It's Gabe's turn to shiver, and he pulls away, grabbing Pete's hand and guiding him the rest of the way into the bedroom.

Gabe backs up to the bed and sits down, spreading his knees to Pete can stand between them. Pete swallows hard, looking down at him.

Gabe puts his hands on Pete's hips, rubbing them for a moment before he slides them down Pete's thighs slow and steady. Pete doesn't look away, even though his stomach is knotted with want and fear and tension. After what seems like forever, Gabe rests his hands back on Pete's hips, his thumbs stroking at the flat surfaces on either side of the fly. 

Pete's eyes are half-closed as he watches Gabe lean in and breathe against the hard bulge of Pete's dick. "O-oh. Oh god."

Gabe's eyes dart up to Pete's and hold them, not distracting Pete at all from the pressure of Gabe's fingers as he unfastens the fly, guiding the zipper down. Pete's hands shake when he raises them to Gabe's shoulders, stroking the thin fabric of his white dress shirt. 

"Okay?" Gabe whispers, his breath fanning over the skin of Pete's stomach, the tight cotton of his boxer-briefs.

Pete nods once, muscles of his stomach contracting as Gabe spreads the denim apart and pushes it down. Goosebumps climb over Pete's skin, and he holds his breath when Gabe's fingers skim along his waistband then hook it, sliding Pete's boxer-briefs down as well.

"Breathe," Gabe murmurs, his breath making Pete's cock jerk. Pete inhales in response, but the breath stays locked in his chest when Gabe takes Pete in his mouth.

"O-o-o-oh...ohgodyes." Pete's hand clench Gabe's shoulders, nails digging in. Gabe takes Pete deeper, and he has to spread his legs for balance to keep himself upright. His nerves tell him that Gabe's hands are still moving on his hips, but all he can feel is the hot, wet circle of Gabe's mouth, the push of his tongue on the underside of Pete's dick. He wants to watch, but his head falls back as he loses himself in the feeling, surrendering.

It's too much after an embarrassingly short while, his chest heaving with heat and arousal as he tries to push Gabe away. Gabe ignores him, taking Pete deeper. Pete gasps out loud, trying again to push Gabe back, but it's too late, and his hips jerk hard.

Gabe sucks him down, and Pete's hands keep clenching at Gabe's shoulders until it's all too much. Then he pushes slightly, stumbling away. "I...um...fuck. Wow." His pants fall to his ankles as he steps back and he trips over them, sitting down hard on the floor. "Holy shit."

"You okay?" Gabe's not laughing, but it's probably taking a lot of effort. He leans forward and offers Pete a hand. Pete grabs it and lets Gabe pull him to his feet and back in closer to the bed. Pete shucks off his pants rather than risk ending up on his ass again. 

"Yeah. I'm...yeah." Pete traces Gabe's forehead just beneath his hairline. "Wow." Gabe scoots back further onto the bed and stretches out, grabbing Pete's hand again and tugging him down onto the mattress with him. Pete goes easily, fitting himself against Gabe's body. He can feel Gabe's hard on through his slacks, the fabric warm and a little slippery against Pete's bare skin. Pete presses closer, lifting his chin so he can kiss Gabe's jaw. "It's been a long time."

"I know."

"I mean, just sex. Not just guys."

Gabe captures Pete's mouth and kisses him. "I know."

Pete laughs against the kiss. "It's ridiculous for a guy with a kid to feel like some sort of virgin."

Rolling them over, Gabe braces himself above Pete. "You talk too much."

"It's a nervous reaction."

Gabe shuts him up with a kiss. Pete doesn't resist, instead using the distraction to work at getting Gabe's clothes off of him. He gets the first few buttons of the shirt undone, and suddenly Gabe's mouth is gone, and Pete blinks and watches him tug it off over his head. Gabe's skin looks like something Pete would describe as honey-colored in one of his books, or lit from within. In reality, it looks like something Pete wants to taste, and he arches up to lick Gabe's collarbone. Gabe groans, the sound melting into a hiss as Pete scrapes his teeth over the curve of bone. "F-fuck."

"So's that," Pete laughs, licking where his teeth had been. 

"Dangerous." Gabe pulls back, shifting his weight, using one hand to undo his slacks. Pete watches, breathing hard. Gabe catches the waistband of his boxer-briefs and Pete puts a hand on Gabe's wrist. 

"I want to." 

Gabe nods and moves his hand, shifting back to give Pete better access. Pete uses both hands to ease the boxer-briefs over Gabe's dick, down his hips. Gabe shifts onto his side and works both his slacks and underwear off, his cock hard and thick, slightly curved. Gabe leans in and kisses Pete, blocking his view, shifting over him again and straddling Pete's thigh, rubbing his dick against Pete's skin.  
Pete wraps a leg around the back of Gabe's, meeting Gabe's downward thrust with his own upward motion. Wetness slides against his skin, Gabe's dick leaking and matting the dark hairs to Pete's leg. He doesn't say anything, his breathing falling into the rough pattern of Gabe's. Gabe starts shuddering, his thrusts growing erratic. "F-fuck. Fuck, Pete. Fuck." He finds Pete's mouth, kissing him hungrily, his tongue tangling with Pete's as heat floods between them.

"Wow." Pete exhales shakily, pressing his forehead against Gabe's shoulder as he slumps down on top of him. "Wow. Like...really wow. I mean, I'd forgotten how awesome sex is."

"It's really awesome," Gabe agrees, easing his weight off of Pete and flopping down on the mattress. "I'm a fan." 

"Me too." Pete sits up and looks around, then gets up and heads into the bathroom. He cleans himself up then comes back, sitting next to Gabe. He rests his hand lightly on Gabe's stomach, and waits until Gabe looks up. "I...well, I haven't actually spent a night away from Jake since he was born."

"Are you worried you're going to wake up crying or wet the bed?" Gabe smiles, which takes the teasing sting out of the words. "You want to go?"

"No. I mean, I want to stay and do that again in the morning." He shrugs and he can feel his cheeks heating up. "But I also feel like I should go home and be there when Jake wakes up."

"You can leave if you'll feel better." Gabe traces his fingertips over the back of Pete's hand. "Your kid comes first. I get that."

"He really likes you."

"I like him too." Gabe smiles up at Pete, and Pete wants to lie down with him. "He seems like a great kid."

"He is." Pete sighs and lies down, his head over Gabe's heart. "He loves spending time with my sister though. She's _way_ cooler than I am."

"Nah. He's just surrounded by how awesome you are all the time, so he takes it for granted." He kisses the top of Pete's head. "I won't be mad or upset if you leave. But just so you know, I'd like you stay." He combs his fingers through Pete's hair, letting the short strands fall through his fingers. It's soothing, like being petted.

"Even if I wake up in the middle of the night crying for my mommy?"

"Even then." Gabe shifts Pete back onto the mattress and props himself up on his elbow, looking down at Pete. "But if you pee the bed, the wet spot is _all_ yours."

"So if I promise any wet spots will be entirely mutual, it's cool if I stay?"

"Yeah." Gabe smiles and leans in and kisses him, and Pete's sure he's not going anywhere. "Yeah. It's cool."

**

He's been avoiding Sabrina's phone calls for over a week now, spending time with Gabe and Jake and neglecting the book. It's not intentional, but she must disagree as she shows up on his doorstep on Wednesday morning, her arms crossed and her face looking like there's thunder on the horizon.

"A month ago."

"Hi, Sabrina. How are you?"

"The book was due a month ago." She glares at him until he moves aside, letting her into the house. "I don't have a book yet, Peter."

"I'm working on it."

"How close are you?"

"Close."

" _How_ close?"

He sighs. "You want coffee?"

"I want the book." 

"Well, I have coffee." He goes into the kitchen and pours two mugs full, doctoring hers just the way she likes it. "Have you seen Travie's new book? He sent me scans. Incredible, right?" Sabrina sits at the table and he can feel her eyes on him. "Two more weeks."

"Look, Pete, I'm not begrudging you whatever it is you have going on right now, whether it's Jake or the barista guy or something else altogether. Hell, for all I know, you've taken up skydiving and are going to write the next novel with a broken neck. But you have a _contract_ for this book, one that has paid you an advance. "

"I _know_ , okay? Trust me, I know better than you about this deadline. I'm fighting every word, and you're not helping." He takes a drink of his coffee and rolls his head, letting his neck crack. "I'm doing my best. I promise."

"I need better. Pete, this is going to affect all their future dealings with you."

" _I know_." He slams his cup into the sink and listens to the porcelain shatter. Coffee sprays everywhere and he kicks the cabinet door. 

"Daddy?" Jake's voice comes from upstairs and Pete curses under his breath. "Daddy okay?"

"Yeah, Jake. Daddy's fine." He grabs a sponge to clean up the mess, ignoring Sabrina's silence as well as he can. He pushes all the shards of the mug to the center then grabs a paper towel to place them in. "I'm trying, okay, Sabrina?"

"I know it's hard, Pete. Being a dad is hard, much less a single dad."

"If this is going to devolve into you telling me to give custody of him to my mother-in-law again, you can leave and I'll find a new agent."

"Actually-" She stands up and moves over to him, setting her cup on the counter beside him. "I was trying to be nice and tell you I'd see if I could negotiate another month for you, but that's all I can do. I'm pushing to get the book into part of their new Exotic Adventures line, which has a publish date for Christmas release."

"Oh." He nods, not looking at her. "That's...um."

"Yeah." She bumps her elbow into his arm. "You can get it to me in a month, right?"

"Three weeks." He nods. "Just...yeah. Three weeks." Looking up at her, he offers her an apologetic grin. "I'm really sorry, Sabrina. I'm just...I'm..." He sighs. "I don't know what I am."

"I know." She pats his head. "Which is why I signed up with you in the first place."

"You want more coffee?"

"Do you promise to drink it and not redecorate with it?"

"Can we talk about anyone's book _but_ mine?"

"Deal."

He grins and gets out another cup for himself. "Deal."

**

"Okay, so this is kind of weird, right?"

"It's not weird unless you let it be weird." Mikey pushes his sunglasses higher up on his nose. "Taking your ex-boyfriend to see your current boyfriend-"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"You're having sex with him on a regular basis. That's a boyfriend."

"That's a sex partner." 

Mikey gives Pete a look that pierces through the glasses and makes Pete squirm. "So you're just having sex with him?"

"Yes." He ducks his eyes so he's not looking at Mikey. "No. Maybe. I don't know. It's just sex, I think. We don't...I mean, I don't have...shit, shit, shit." He exhales roughly. "Okay, so he's sort of a boyfriend. But only in the way where he's not officially a boyfriend and he has no idea he's even unofficially a boyfriend."

"I take it you haven't discussed this with him in any way?"

"He hangs out with me and Jake. That's not a good time to discuss it."

Mikey's mouth quirks slightly. "I'm assuming you also hang out without Jake if you're fucking him regularly."

"Yeah, but then we're busy doing...things. That aren't talking." He knows his face is flaming red, and Gabe'll probably be able to see him from the stage, since he feels like he's glowing. "You're the worst, Mikey."

"Yes. Totally the worst." Mikey grins at him and raises an eyebrow as he checks out the address of the building in front of them. "Is this it?"

"It matches the information he gave me." Pete looks at the note in his hand, the address and then at Mikey. "It looks kind of..."

"Like a total dive. I like him already." Mikey opens the door and they get hit with a wave of heat and smoke and sound. Mikey nods at the bouncer and moves into the club and Pete hurries after him to keep from getting separated. The stage is dark, but there's music and dancing keeping people on their feet. Mikey weaves Pete past them to the bar and orders two drinks. Pete's used to being in Mikey's wake, comfortable to let him pull him along. They'd dated for six months and been friends ever since. "We have to order real drinks here. None of that Pabst bullshit."

"I don't drink that anyway."

"That's because you don't have a social life." Mikey hands Pete a glass. "Drink up."

"I don't have time for a social life. I have a kid and a book deadline."

Mikey pushes Pete's hand toward his mouth. "Drink."

“You’re a bad influence. Sabrina would not like you.” He drinks anyway, shuddering at the burn as it slides down his throat. “What did you order me?”

“Something strong. Now. When is you boyfriend supposed to be here?”

“He’s not my…you’re a horrible human being, Mikey.” He glances around, knowing he won’t actually see Gabe. “He’s probably already here. Backstage getting ready.”

“Does dating him make you a groupie?”

Pete flips him off and takes another drink. “We’re going to a street fair tomorrow. They’re playing in the morning and then he, Jake, and I are going to walk around.”

“Going to all his shows. I’m definitely sure that makes you a groupie.” Mikey takes his own drink and leans back against the bar. “When’s the next naked sleepover?”

“The term ‘naked sleepover’ is never going to be allowed.” The house music fades and Pete straightens on his stool “And I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I need to not do anything until I finish this damn book.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Well, no naked sleepovers are happening there either.”

“That’s cute.” Mikey finishes his drink and gestures to the bartender for another. People start applauding and the curtain pulls back from the stage. Horns blare out and Gabe twirls his bass, and Mikey sort of disappears as far as Pete’s concerned as they play through a full set and Pete doesn’t actually look away from Gabe at all. 

He’s sure Mikey gives him shit, but he’s too caught up in watching to pay much attention. The singer promises more after a break, and Gabe eases his bass out of his arms and heads over to the bar. Pete hurriedly orders for him, handing him a cold beer when he walks up to them. 

“Hey,” Gabe smiles, hot and private at Pete, then relaxes it as he looks at Mikey. “You must be Mikey.”

“Yeah. Mikey Way. Friend of Pete’s.” He shakes Gabe’s hand and Pete watches them both, intent for any signs of weirdness. 

“Gabe Saporta. Also a friend of Pete’s. Nice to meet you.” It seems perfectly cordial, which makes Pete wonder if there’s something he’s missing or, worse, something he’s seeing that isn’t really there. “You like jazz?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m a studio musician, do some producing. You guys are great. Horns especially, no offense.”

“Everybody likes the shiny guys.” Gabe grins and shifts, resting his hand on the bar, his arm brushing against Pete’s back. “You guys staying for the second set?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Pete smiles up at him, ignoring the look Mikey gives him. “You want to go out for drinks or dinner after? Or we could go to a club or something. If you want. Hilary’s got Jake tonight, so I can stay out past my curfew.”

“You two didn’t have plans?”

“Our plans were flexible,” Mikey says dryly. “Which is a nice way of saying he has every intention of dumping me if you want to whisk him away somewhere.”

“Mikey!” Pete kicks Mikey’s calf and ducks his head to hide his blush. “I did not say that. Not ever. You make me sound like a complete dick.”

“I make you sound like you want to be with your dude,” Mikey shrugs. “Which I’m pretty sure was what you were saying on the way...ow.” He jabs Pete in the thigh when Pete kicks him again. “Quit it.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“You deserve it.” Mikey grins at Gabe. “He’s pretty cute when he blushes, right?”

“He blushes nicely. And a lot.” Gabe bumps his hip against Pete’s. “I’m game for whatever you guys want to do. The second set’s longer though, so it’s going to be a little late. If you want to go off without me, that’s okay.”

“Do you not want to hang with us?” Pete bites the inside of his lip to focus, willing himself not to lose his cool. “I mean, you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Gabe leans in and nuzzles the side of Pete’s head, his breath warm against Pete’s ear. “I can always catch up.”

Pete turns his head a little, moving closer to Gabe. “I like watching you play.”

“You like me all hot and sweaty.”

“Well, yeah. That too.” He shivers as Gabe laughs in his ear and the pulls back, finishing off his beer. 

“I’ll catch you guys in a while then. If you get bored, just text me and I’ll catch up with you, okay?”

“Not going anywhere.” Gabe grins and heads backstage. Pete sighs and signals for another drink. “Mikeyway, I am so fucking gone on this guy, aren’t I?”

“You passed ‘gone’ about a month ago now. Right when you first called me about him.” Mikey picks his beer up off the bar and takes a long draw from it. “Jake likes him?”

“Yeah. Jake thinks he’s great.”

“Okay, so I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to get upset, so I don’t want you to answer me tonight, but I want you to think about it, okay?”

Pete frowns and chews the inside of his lip some more. “I don’t like the sound of that.” He focuses on the stage where Gabe and the rest of the band are setting up. “You’re going to do one of those things where you make me make choices and shit.”

“I’m just wondering if you’ve thought about what this is, where it’s going? I mean, you obviously like this guy. Jake likes this guy. Are you _dating_ this guy? Is he someone you plan to have in your life in a relationship-type basis? Because that means explaining to Jake that sometimes Daddy likes boys and that it doesn’t change how he felt about Mommy.”

“Jake says he doesn’t miss her. That he doesn’t remember her, so he can’t miss her.” Pete watches Gabe for a long time then looks at Mikey. “He said that, and...you know, I felt really shitty. Because most of the time I don’t miss her either, you know?”

“It’s been almost three years, Pete. You’re allowed to move on. In fact, I think most people would have already moved on. And liking Gabe, wanting to be with him, that’s not a betrayal of Elizabeth, and it also doesn’t say anything about how much you love Jake. You’ve really dedicated your life to him, and it’s okay to reclaim a little bit of it for yourself.”

“Her family is going to flip out. Not just that I’m dating, but that it’s a guy. I don’t want to go through another custody hearing.” The music fades and Pete settles more firmly on his bar stool, turning to face the stage. There’s a purple curtain that draws back and Pete applauds loudly as Gabe appears in his 40s-cut suit and fedora. 

“Holy shit,” Mikey raises an eyebrow and downs the rest of his drink. “You didn’t tell me _that_.”

“Oh. Um. No. It wasn’t like that last time. I mean, not in a full suit. Wow.” Pete absently takes a drink of his drink and chokes on it. “Mikey, there is no way in hell I can score a guy like that.”

“You already have scored that. Multiple times.” Mikey settles back and grins at Pete. “Way to go, dude.”

**

Pete’s pacing the alley opening, ignoring the look Mikey’s giving him. Mikey is made of cool and relaxed. Mikey is unfazed. Of course, Mikey’s boyfriend wasn’t just on stage getting ogled by women in the audience. “You’re smirking at me.”

“I would not do that.”

“You _are_ doing that.”

“Fine. But I’m smirking with love.” Mikey grins. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want me to bail? You guys could be alone. Go have a naked sleepover.”

“I told you that phrase is not allowed.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and leans against the corner of the building, looking at Mikey. “And no. I don’t. I just…I want him to know my friends. Be my friend. I mean, I know I want to be alone and naked with him. I’m reasonably sure he wants to be alone and naked with me.”

“But you want to know if there’s more. Or you want there to be more, and you’re hoping that he does too.” Mikey nods. “I’m your friendship litmus test.”

“I guess. You just know me better than anyone, really. I mean, Travie gets me better than anyone, but you knew me in a relationship and then with Elizabeth, and…I guess I just don’t know if I’m seeing things because they’re there or because I want them to be there. Because I’m lonely.”

“Pete…”

“No. I mean. I’m happy. I love my life.”

“Pete.” Mikey walks over and tugs him into a hug. The way Mikey hugs is like being enveloped, long arms around him and holding Pete so close it’s hard to breathe. He hugs with his whole body, and it’s so easy to get lost in it. “Hey. It’s okay.”

“Shit, Mikes.” He feels heat in his eyes, the threat of tears. He closes them tightly, squeezing them shut harder when Mikey’s fingers comb through his hair. He laughs a little, his throat raw. “C’mon. Stop.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Say what?”

“I don’t know.” Mikey takes half a step back and looks down at Pete. “Something.”

The back door of the club opens and a square of light falls on them, only broken by Gabe’s shadow. Pete steps back from Mikey’s arms and waves, feeling like an idiot. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Gabe’s in jeans and a white shirt again, back to the outfit he’d been wearing in the first set. “Sorry that took so long.”

“No. It’s cool. We were just waiting.” Pete feels off-balance, and he can see Gabe looking from him to Mikey like he’s curious, like maybe he’s missing a connection. “So, where should we go?”

“Actually, I’m going to bail on you.” Mikey pulls his keys from his pocket. “I told Alicia I wouldn’t be out too late.”

Pete wants to call him out, but there’s a tension in the air that’s rooted directly in the way that Gabe’s looking at Mikey. It’s not jealousy, but there’s a proprietary edge to it that makes Pete’s stomach tighten and heat up and _want_ Mikey to go. “Yeah. Okay. Give her my love, huh?”

“Absolutely. We’ll have you guys over for dinner soon.” He hugs Pete with one arm, then holds his hand out to Gabe. “Nice to meet you. And hear you play. You guys are really good.”

“Thanks. Thanks for coming out.” Gabe smiles when he shakes Mikey’s hand, and Pete rolls his eyes at the clear machismo that’s going on. Mikey’s grinning, which means he isn’t bothered by it in the slightest. “See you around.”

“Yeah. At dinner.” Mikey heads off down the sidewalk and Pete turns to Gabe. The heat is still in his stomach, but there’s also a little bit of amusement, a little bit of exasperation. 

“Would it be better if I swooned?”

“What?” Gabe’s eyes snap to Pete’s and his frown throws Pete off a bit. 

“Nothing. I just…you were.” He clears his throat. “So. What do you want to do?”

“You want to walk along the water?”

Pete nods and they walk along the sidewalk until they come to the steps down to the beach. Gabe kicks off his shoes and holds them in his hand, so he can walk barefoot on the still warm sand. Pete wiggles his toes in his tennis shoes as he waits then falls in step with Gabe. “Mikey and I were over a long time ago. We’re just friends. I mean, he’s married and I was married, and we’re just friends.”

“What are we doing, do you think?” 

Pete stops then hurries to catch up when Gabe keeps walking. “What do you mean?”

“You are a widower with a kid and a real job. I’m a fucking coffee barista who plays in a jazz band for fun and extra cash. What are you looking for?”

“I didn’t know I was looking for anything. I thought…I thought it just happened. A connection or something. I liked you. You liked me. Jake thought you were a super hero.” He shrugs and stops walking again, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I like you.”

“I like you too.” Gabe smiles at him and shakes his head. “Come on. Let’s go down by the water.”

“You’re not going to drown me or anything, are you?” He starts walking again, his hands still tucked in his pockets. 

“Me saying I like you makes you think I want to drown you?” Gabe laughs a little. “I’m suddenly very worried about what your previous relationships were like.”

“They’ve been good. I mean, I’m still friends with Mikey and I imagine Elizabeth and I would still get along, though maybe not. Her mom sure as hell doesn’t like me. She might want to drown me.”

“I’ve got no desire to drown you, I promise.” Gabe squats down and rakes his fingers through the sand. “I’m just not sure what we’re doing. You brought a friend to my show, which is fine, except I’m not sure if he’s a friend and an ex, or if he’s more than that.”

“He’s a friend and an ex, and I love him. I mean, we meant a lot to each other, but what was between is is in the past, you know? You’re...” Pete shakes his head and sits on the sand next to Gabe, splaying his legs out in front of them. The waves lap at the soles of his shoes. “I haven’t been with anyone since Elizabeth died. Not in a relationship anyway. I haven’t wanted to put out the effort to be with someone, to find someone. That’s what was so amazing about finding you. I wasn’t trying, you know? You just happened.”

Gabe nods and grabs a rock and tosses it into the water. “I wasn’t looking for you either.”

“You’re not sorry you found me, are you?”

“No.” Gabe turns his head and looks at Pete for a long moment. “You want to come home with me?”

“Yeah, but maybe it would be better if you crashed at my place if we’re going to the fair tomorrow. Hilary will bring Jake home and we can just go from there. We can swing by your place and pick up some clothes.”

“You’re asking me to spend the night?”

“I...guess. Yeah.” Pete grins and rakes a hand through his short hair. “I’m not supposed to. I'm supposed to be concentrating on my book and getting it done so my agent doesn’t kill me and I don’t renege on my contract, but yeah. I want you to come home with me and stay the night and do things with me that make my toes curl and will probably make me blush when we see my sister tomorrow.”

“Wow, so that’s a big order I have to fill.” Gabe gets to his feet and reaches down, offering a hand to Pete. “Better get started.”

**

Jake lands on Pete’s stomach, waking Pete out of a sound sleep and driving all the breath from his lungs. After the landing, he launches into a hug, wrapping his arms tight around Pete’s neck. “Hi, Daddy! I home!”

“A-am home.” Pete huffs, half-choking in Jake’s grip. “Let Daddy live, okay?”

Letting go, Jake turns and plops down in Pete’s lap. Pete’s jaw snaps shut as what little morning wood he had left disappears in a flash of pain. It takes a few minutes for Pete to process after that, but eventually his brain kicks into gear and he tosses a horrified look at the opposite side of the bed.

Which is empty.

“So you just happened to stop by Pete’s this morning and make coffee for him while he was still in bed?” Hilary doesn’t even bother to pretend like she believes a word she just said. “Who let you in?”

“Some guy in a balaclava and gloves. I assumed he was the butler.” Gabe slips in through the open bedroom door ahead of Hilary and waves a cup in Pete’s direction. The smell wafts through the room and Pete makes a noise in his throat. “He was carrying the silver and everything. I made you coffee.”

Gabe’s dressed, which is kind of a disappointment, because Pete really wanted to wake up to him all naked and climb on top of him and ride him, jerking himself off all over Gabe’s stomach. Of course, given that Pete slept until Hilary and Jake came home, it’s probably for the best one of them had the forethought to have actual clothes on. “Coffee’s great. I love coffee.”

“I should warn you, I’m not a trained professional at it or anything.” He quirks an eyebrow and suddenly starts. “Pete.” He sets the coffee on the bedside table and gestures slowly. “Don’t look now, but you have a Jake growing out of your stomach.”

“I...what?” Pete gasps and then covers his mouth with his hands. “Oh my god. What will I do?”

“We’ll have to amputate. You hold him still, and I will proceed with-” Gabe pauses for effect then holds up both of his hands, fingers spread wide. “ _The tickles_.” He reaches Jake before Jake can do more than shriek in response, both of them scrambling on the bed and falling across Pete. Pete grabs for the sheet to keep from exposing himself to everyone, one hand cupped over his dick beneath it as arms and hands and legs and knees and feet go flying. Jake’s shrieking and laughing and Gabe’s shouting that no one can escape the tickles, and Pete feels like his heart is going to explode in the center of his chest.

He looks up from them to Hilary in the doorway, blushing at her sharp, knowing glance. “We need to talk,” she says.

“Hil...”

“Tonight.”

Pete glances at Gabe quickly. He’s still playing with Jake, still tickling to shrieks and screams, but they’ve moved form the bed to the floor, so all of Pete’s parts are out of danger. “Not today. Not tonight. We’ve got plans. Tomorrow, okay?”

“You can’t keep putting this off, Pete.”

“I haven’t been!”

“You have. You’ve been avoiding my calls and ducking out of doors.” Her face softens for a moment and she sighs. “I’m just worried about you. It’s my job.”

“Actually, you’re my little sister, so it’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“You’re going to argue about this with me?” She gives him another look, and Pete holds up his hands in surrender. 

“Okay. Tomorrow night. I’ll call you and you can come over after Jake’s in bed.”

“That’s your writing time. You’re going to call me and tell me you just had a breakthrough and you can’t stop, so can we postpone it one more day.” He can tell he’s blushing by the way she smiles. “Jake takes his nap at two. I’ll be here then.”

He nods, knowing he doesn’t have much of a choice. He looks over at Gabe, who is lying on the floor with Jake on his back. Jake is savoring his victory, though if he doesn’t start tickling Gabe soon, Pete’s pretty sure it’s going to be short-lived. When he looks back, Hilary’s gone, so he tugs on his boxers under the sheets and goes over to join the battle. He straddles Gabe’s legs behind Jake and digs his fingers into Gabe’s sides, letting Gabe’s protests and Jake’s laughter blot everything else out for a while.

**

Jake is up on Gabe’s shoulder’s, telling Pete about everything he can see from so high in the air. He’s jabbering non-stop, a side effect of cotton candy and tacos and soda and popcorn and a mishap with some salt water taffy. Gabe’s made Pete eat at all sorts of different booths, feeding him little bits of this and that and refusing to tell Pete what most of it is. Pete hasn’t cared too much, because Gabe’s holding his hand like they’re a couple, and his other hand is tight on Jake’s legs so he can’t fall down, and Pete feels _whole_ in a way he hasn’t in years. Maybe forever. 

Jake made Pete dance to Gabe’s band’s set, and eventually groups of people were dancing, little kids and grown ups, a few elderly couples that actually did swing dancing while everyone stood around, watching and laughing and clapping. Pete can feel the hint of sunburn on the back of his neck and on his arms, and he can feel the press of Gabe close to him and he can hear Jake’s voice and it’s perfect. So perfect it scares him.

“Hey, little dude. Let’s hit the potties, okay?” He gives Jake a look that doesn’t allow argument and takes his hand after Gabe hoists him down. “We’ll be right back.” He hands off the bag of stuff they’ve accumulated and leads Jake through the crowd to the public bathrooms on the pier. Before he talks to Hilary, he needs to talk to Jake, and he needs to figure out what he’s doing before he talks to either of them.

Pete helps Jake, then holds him up to the sink so that he can wash his hands. “Having fun?”

“Can I had ‘nother ice cream?”

“Have, buddy. And no.” He sets him downon the floor and turns on the automatic hand dryer. Jake rubs his hands together, watching the water run down to his wrists. “So, are you having fun?”

“Yeah. More fun with ice cream.”

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's more fun with ice cream." He’s chickening out, but he actually isn’t ready to have this talk with Jake right now after all. He takes his hand and leads him out into the crowd of people. Gabe's easy enough to see, taller than a lot of the people around. Pete moves toward him and bumps into him when they're close enough. "Hey."

"Let's go play a game. What do you say, Jake?"

"Yeah! Wanna play and win toys."

"Like you need more toys." Pete laughs as Gabe swings Jake back up on his shoulders. There's something easy about it, relaxed and natural. Fuck. "So you want to come to our place for dinner?”

"You guys don't need short people time or anything?"

"Hey." Pete sticks his tongue out at him and trails them to the midway. Gabe plops Jake down on one of the stools in front of the clown face and helps him hold onto the gun. Pete hands money over to the guy behind the counter as Gabe gets Jake set up. Pete gets caught in watching them together, Gabe's dark hair next to Jake's blond, both of them smiling. He can see Beth in Jake when he laughs. 

The buzzer goes off and Pete cheers them on, laughing at the shocked look on Jake's face when the carny hands him a stuffed walrus. He turns and grins at Pete, waving it at him. "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Look! Lookit what I won!""That is awesome, duder." He swings Jake down from the stool. "What are you going to name him?"

"Buford." Jake pulls on one of his tusks and frowns, trying to mask a yawn behind the walrus's head. 

"You know," Gabe yawns as well, over-exaggerating it. "I'm beat. What do you say we go home and hang out and watch cartoons or Star Wars or something.”Jake yawns again and leans into Pete. "Can we, Daddy?"

"Absolutely." He bends down and lets Jake climb on his back, curving his arms under his legs and carrying him and Buford toward the parking lot. He grins up at Gabe. "I make amazing guacamole. We can have quesidillas and chips or something, huh?"

Gabe nods and grins at him. "Sounds good to me."

**

Jake's half asleep against Gabe's side on the couch when Pete comes in to check on things. Pete knows he needs to talk to him, but it's impossible to think of bringing up anything serious right now. Jake looks up at Gabe and burrows closer. "You're nice, Mr. Super Barista."

"You can call me Gabe, you know. Don't give away my secret identity."

"Just us now." He yawns wide. "Daddy 'n I knows." He yawns again. "You gonna be my daddy too?"

"What?" There's no panic in Gabe's voice, but his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

"M' friend, Mateo has three daddies. His daddy and his daddy's boyfriend and his mommy's boyfriend." Jake makes the walrus look up at Gabe. "You gonna be my daddy too?"

"I don't know. I mean, I like hanging out with you and your dad. Do you like me hanging out with you guys?"

"You're nice." He wrinkles his nose and pokes the walrus. "My mommy's dead. Daddy misses her."

"I imagine he does. I mean, she helped make you, and you're pretty great, so she was probably pretty great, right?" He strokes Jake's hair away from his face, his fingers tracing through the curls. Pete's stomach clenches, his heart twisting. "But the thing about people who die is that they go away forever, and all you have is their memory, and sometimes you want more than that."

"Daddy likes you. He yells at his 'puter about you."

Gabe laughs a little, shaking his head. "He what?"

"When he writing. He yells at you. You're not doing sex with the girl."

“I...okay.” Gabe glances over at the kitchen, and Pete can’t move fast enough to get out of the doorway. Gabe cocks an eyebrow and Pete offers him a smile and a half-shrug.

“Dinner’s ready.” Pete gestures back to the kitchen then ducks out of the doorway, hurrying to the table to make sure everything’s set. Gabe and Jake follow him in a minute later, talking about something that most decidedly isn’t sex. Pete dishes up the food, making sure that everyone has enough of everything in a sort of manic energy that keeps the conversation from straying anywhere near the subject of his book. Jake’s falling asleep before they’re half finished, and Pete scoops him up and carries him upstairs to bed. 

When he comes back down, Gabe’s washing the dishes in the sink, a towel tucked into his waistband. Pete hoists himself up on the counter, watching him as he wipes the cloth over the dishes. 

“So. That was awkward.”

Gabe laughs softly. “Your book involves me having sex with girls.”

“No. Not exactly. I need to learn to stop talking to myself when I write.” He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the short strands sticking up. “I’m writing a book that involves a character that maybe I’ve named Gabriel.”

Gabe rinses the plate and sets it in the drying rack. He rubs his hands with the towel and comes over, placing it on the counter next to Pete, moving between his legs. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked what kind of books you write exactly.”

“Um.” Pete scrunches his face up and sighs. “It’s…it sort of depends.”

“On?”

“Who I’m writing as.”

“Okay, I’m going to pretend there’s a logical explanation for that, and it’s not something like you have a split personality or something.”

“Not exactly.” Pete sighs and slides off the counter, his body pressing against Gabe’s. Gabe’s eyebrow shoots up and Pete shakes his head. “C’mon.” He takes Gabe’s hand and leads him to the back corner of the living room, the office built under the curve of the stairs. He leans against the bookcase on the back wall and points to three rows of books. “Kingston Lewis.”

“I don’t get it.”

He points to the next shelf down. “Peter King.” Pete points to himself. “Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz.” He shrugs. “The third.”

“There are three of you?”

“Well, not of _me_ exactly. Me-ish. Or I’m them-ish.” He sinks into his chair. “I’ve been writing romance novels since Jake was about a year old. It started as a joke between me and my friend, Travis, because he said I was the biggest romantic he’d ever met, and he dared me to do it. So I did and it actually sold. And then I had an agent, and when Beth died, I spent the first five months writing. Recreating what happened, changing it. Fixing it. That’s when Peter King was born. They sold, and I made money doing it and it was easy. The words would just come, you know?”

“So you’re, like, a published, best-selling author.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I write books. Some of them sell decently.”

“I _own_ one of your books.”

“You do?” Pete ducks his head. “Which one?”

“Car Crash Hearts.”

“Oh. Oh, wow. Nobody read that one.” He rubs his face absently. “That’s the one I wrote right after Beth died. It’s awful.”

“It’s not awful. It’s...it’s raw. That’s why I like it.” Gabe squats down and looks at Pete. “So whose book am I in?”

“You’re _not_ in one of my books. Your name is. That’s totally different.” He ducks his head and looks at Gabe through his lashes. Gabe’s smiling, which is good. Pete likes smiles. “You’re a Spanish rogue.”

“I am, huh?” His smile widens and he sits on the floor, legs bent, wrists on his knees. Pete has the almost overwhelming urge to get on his knees and crawl between Gabe’s spread legs and stop talking for a while. “And I’m refusing to defile the young ladies, am I?”

Pete gives into the thought and kneels on the floor. He walks on his knees until his thighs are pressed to Gabe’s. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve bedded her a couple of times, but there was a misunderstanding and now it’s all fixed, and you seem to not want to give me the final, climactic love scene.”

“Final and climactic are kind of synonyms, aren’t they?” Gabe swallows a laugh, bringing a hand up to brush Pete’s jaw. 

Pete shakes his head, careful not to move away from Gabe’s touch. “No. Well, yes and no. In a romance novel, climactic carries multiple meanings.”

“Do I get multiples, or just the girl?”

Pete ducks his head on a laugh. “You’re awful.”

“Says the man who put me in a hot, smutty novel. It’d better be hot and smutty. Not one of those ‘fade to black’ ones.” He tucks a finger under Pete’s chin and lifts it, looking him in the eye. “It is smutty, right?”

“Yeah. It’s smutty. Some of the smuttiest.”

“Excellent.” Gabe brushes his lips lightly over Pete’s. “But you’re stuck. On the smutty bits.” Pete nods and closes his eyes as Gabe leans in again with another barely-there brush of his mouth. Pete’s lips part and he presses into the feel of Gabe’s hand on his chin. “Maybe you need inspiration.”

“Y-yeah? Where would I get that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Gabe’s smile touches Pete’s mouth and he kisses him softly. “If only you knew a Spanish rogue. Pity I’m from Uruguay.”

“You speak Spanish though, right?” Pete can’t breathe anything from Gabe, can’t feel anything but the warmth of his body. “That’s kind of the same thing.”

“Kind of. But not even close.” Gabe shifts back and grabs Pete’s hips, walking him forward on his knees until he’s straddling Gabe’s thighs. “You want some inspiration?”

“Please.”

Gabe traces his thumb over Pete’s lower lip and then kisses him, slow and warm. He follows it up with a sharp bite then sucks on the lip until Pete whimpers softly. His mouth opens to Gabe’s tongue, letting it explore inside his mouth. He closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling, his hands sliding up and down Gabe’s arms. Pete loses himself in it, gasping softly when Gabe slides a hand up Pete’s back and shifts again, laying Pete out on the floor.

He doesn’t stop kissing Pete, and Pete wraps his arms around Gabe’s neck, keeping him close as he settles over Pete’s body, fitting easily between Pete’s spread legs. “Oh.” Pete groans softly, arching up to feel Gabe pressed against him. “Mmm.”

“Inspiring?” Gabe’s voice is a low heat, a bullet straight to Pete’s nervous system. He moves his head to Pete’s neck, nipping at his jaw. “Getting the creative juices flowing?”

“F-fuck. Fuck. Yes.” Pete thrusts upward, hips desperate for friction. “Gabe.”

Gabe kisses him again, hard and deep. Pete wraps his legs around him, holding their bodies tight together. Heat floods him, setting his blood on fire. He unwinds his feet from behind Gabe and braces them on the floor, thrusting upward into the press of Gabe’s dick between his thighs. Gabe breathes hot against his neck, nuzzling his way up to Pete’s earlobe and catching it with his teeth. He grinds it lightly between them before licking the shell of Pete’s ear. “You want me inside you, Pete?”

Pete makes a noise, his voice caught in his throat. Gabe laughs, the sound reverberating against Pete’s skin. Pete makes another sound, reaching between them to get his jeans undone and off. He’s got them shoved halfway down his thighs, fighting to keep touching Gabe and get naked at the same time.

“Daddy! Nigh’time potties!”

Pete chokes on his breath and bites his lip to keep from making any noise. His cock is bare and  
aching, smearing pre-come against Gabe’s jeans. “J-j...” He clears his throat a couple times. “Just a second, Jake.”

“Gotta pooooooootty, Daddy! Is hurries!”

“Be right there, bu-buddy.” He scrambles out from beneath Gabe, apologizing as he pushes away, his foot hitting something tender, if Gabe’s reaction is anything to go by. “Sorry. Shit. Sorry.” He winces and gets to his feet, tugging up his boxer-briefs and jeans, groaning under his breath as the cloth presses against his dick. “I’m coming.”

“Daddy is pee-pee.”

“I’m coming, Jake.”

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy.” Jake chokes on a sob, and Pete curses under his breath. He takes the stairs two at a time, even though he knows he’s too late by now.

“Hey. Hey, little man. I’m here.” He can tell before he even gets in the room that he’s too late. They’ve graduated to underpants, even at night, but Pete always has to get him to the bathroom. “It’s okay. Just an accident.”

“I accidented in my jammies, Daddy.” His voice breaks, and he starts crying again, tears running down his cheeks, lit by the nightlight. “I sorry.”

“Hey, hey. It’s all right. Let’s get you into the bathroom and cleaned up, okay? C’mon.” He lifts Jake to his feet and strips off his soiled clothes. “You didn’t want to wear giraffes tonight anyway, did you?”

His lower lip is still out, but he’s not actively crying when he shakes his head. “N-n-no.”

“So let’s get cleaned up and find something else to wear. Dinosaurs?”

“Robots?”

“Oooh. Robots. Excellent choice.” He picks him up and settles him on his hip, carrying him into the bathroom. He runs a few inches of warm water in the tub and gets Jake settled into it, using lots of bubbles and a washcloth to get him clean. He doesn’t think about Gabe or the fact that he probably bolted after Pete kicked him in the nads, doesn’t let himself, focusing on getting Jake clean and then dried off. He leaves him wrapped in the towel as he carries him to the bedroom, grabbing a new pair of underpants and pajamas out of the drawer.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Where did my accident go?”

Pete glances over his shoulder at him and then at the bed. It’s remade and completely dry. Even the stuffed animals look to be mostly back in their correct spots. “I don’t know, buddy. M-maybe there’s an accident fairy.”

“Oh.” Jake suffers through Pete helping him get his pajamas on then climbs into bed, snuggling his stuffed panda bear. “Night, Daddy.”

“Night, little man. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you mostest!” Jake giggles. “Mostestestier!”

“Wow. That’s a lot.” Pete laughs and kisses his forehead, smoothing back his hair. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

Pete starts for the door, stopping and looking back. “Jake?”

“Yeah, Daddy?” The words are broken with a yawn.

“I love you mostestestestestestier. Plus two.” He grins as Jake giggles some more. “And a half.”

He walks down the stairs slowly, stopping at the bottom. Gabe’s sitting on the couch, flipping through the guide on the Tivo. He glances up when Pete sighs. “I threw the stuff in the laundry.”

“Why?”

“Because it was dirty and you had your hands full.” Gabe shrugs and turns off the TV, patting the couch next to him. Pete walks over, feeling tentative suddenly. “You okay?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But you needed help. I was here. I wasn’t busy doing anything else.” Gabe grins. “Did I go too far or something?”

“No. No. You...you were great. Are great. Beyond great.” He looks up and shakes his head. “I’m sorry I got you in the balls.”

“I’m going to assume it wasn’t on purpose, so all is forgiven.” He wraps his arm around Pete and pulls him against his chest. “Kind of a mood-killer though.”

“Wetting the bed?”

“Well, yeah. And getting kicked in the balls. My dick crawled back inside like a hermit crab in a brand new shell.”

Pete laughs, clapping a hand over his mouth to keep from getting too loud. “That’s just really vivid imagery, man.”

Gabe kisses Pete’s temple, nuzzling it gently. “You should get some sleep. And call me tomorrow, okay?”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I think it’s probably for the best.” He tilts Pete’s chin and kisses him properly, taking his time and lingering. “But call me.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

Gabe laughs and extricates himself. “Goodnight, Pete.”

He stands and walks Gabe to the door, watching him get on his bike and ride off. “Night, Gabe.”

**

Hilary shows up with two cups of coffee, a hot chocolate, and a box of doughnuts. Pete’s immensely grateful that she didn’t actually go to Gabe’s coffee shop to stock up, because he knows his sister, and she’s not above giving warnings or, more likely, threatening Gabe’s life.

“C’mon, sport.” Pete lifts Jake high in the air then settles him on his chair. “Aunt Hil got you your favorites.” He dishes up a doughnut for Jake and then sits down in the chair next to him. Hilary’s standing, her arms crossed over her chest. He rolls his eyes. “Have a seat.”

“We need to talk.”

“We will. We are. But it’s going to affect Jake, so he can hear it.”

“He’s _three_ , Pete.”

“I know, but whatever decisions I make directly impact him, for better or worse.”

Hilary takes a sip of her coffee, glaring at Pete over the lid as she sits down. He doesn’t look away, because he’s sure this is the right thing to do. “Fine.” She sets down her cup and laces her fingers together. “You’re dating this guy.”

“Gabe.”

“You’re dating Gabe.”

“Yeah.” He smiles a little, ducking his head. “Yeah, I am.”

“He’s spending the night.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.” Pete glances at Jake, grinning at the sight of his face, lips ringed with sugary glaze as he sucks his fingers clean. “So far only when Jake’s not here.”

“Except he was here the other morning. What if we’d come home earlier? What if he’d walked in on you?”

“I likes Gabe.” Jake reaches for another doughnut, frowning when Pete pulls the box away.

“Ask first.”

Jake frowns, his mouth setting in a line, and his eyes narrowing. Pete exhales, waiting for the tantrum, but instead Jake slumps back in his seat, his lower lip sliding out into a pout. “Pleases.”

Pete blinks at him for a moment before sliding the box back in front of him. Jake takes another doughnut and starts licking the chocolate frosting off the top. “Gabe be my new daddy?”

“What?” Pete shakes his head and reaches for him, tugging him into his lap. “No, dude. I’m always going to be your daddy.”

“Are Gabe gonna be my mommy?”

Pete glances at Hilary, tempted to flip her off when she raises her eyebrows and smirks knowingly at him. He looks back at Jake and grins. “Not exactly, dude. He’s daddy’s friend. And daddy likes him a lot. So he’s going to be around. And I want to make sure you’re going to be okay with that.”

“Do you loves him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I think I could.”

“But you still loves me.”

“Oh, yeah, buddy. Nothing will ever change that. You’re my son, and I’m going to love you always. Even if I love someone else too. Love just gets bigger to hold everybody. It never takes anything away from someone.” He kisses the top of Jake’s head.

Jake tears off a bit of his doughnut and rolls it into a ball before shoving it in his mouth and sucking his fingers. Hilary's quiet, watching them both carefully. "I likes Gabe. I be okay if you loveded each other."

Pete smiles at him and kisses his forehead. "Sometimes though people don't like it when two boys love each other. Not like daddys and sons, but like Gabe and I would be."

"Mateo at the park has two daddies." Jake scrapes a line down the center of his maple bar. "And a mommy and a daddy."

"Well, I can't give you that. I'm just me, and I hope that Gabe likes me back enough that he'll want to be part of our life, but he may just want to be our friends, and that's okay too, right?"

"Will it make you sad?"

Pete cuts a quick glance to Hilary. "You're the most important thing in my life, Jake. Yeah, if Gabe didn't want to be part of our lives, it would make me sad. If he doesn't like me as much as I like him, that'd make me a little sad too, but you're my priority."

"I don't know what a p'ority is, Daddy."

"It means that you come first, always. And no matter what happens with me and Gabe, you and I never change."

"I might growed up some."

Pete laughs and hugs him. "You might, but not too much, if I'm anything to go by."

Jake gives Pete a confused look and stuffs the last of his doughnut in his mouth. He talks around it, crumbs landing on the table. "C'n I go pway?"

"Swallow and try again."

He chews for a long minute then swallows, crumbs still in the corners of his mouth. "Can I go play?"

"Yeah." Pete lets him down and sweeps all the crumbs together, dumping them in Jake's napkin. Crumpling it into a ball, he leans back in his chair and looks at his sister. "Well?"

"You're a good dad, Pete."

He shrugs and grabs a doughnut for himself, tearing off a hunk of it and shoving it in his mouth. After washing it down with half his coffee, he sighs and rubs his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "Except I don't know what I'm doing, and I sure as he...heck don't know if I'm doing the right thing with this. I don't want to get into another custody argument. I don't want to be told that I'm a bad father and a bad example because the person I like happens to be the same sex I am. And I _really_ don't want to deal with Beth's family freaking out that their precious baby girl married a depraved homo."

"You're bisexual."

Pete laughs. "Somehow I think that fine distinction isn't going to matter to them."

"You're the same person you were when you married Beth. If they can't see that, then that's on them, Pete."

"Maybe I should just pre-emptively deal with Corinne. Tell her what's going on." He gets up and dumps the rest of his coffee down the drain. "I don't know."

"You know what I think?"

"That I'm an idiot?"

Hilary laughs and comes over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. "All the time, but in this particular case, I think you shouldn't worry about Corinne. Gabe seems to like you, and he's good to Jake. Just have fun, be together. If it gets serious...seriously serious, like you think you want to be with him and he wants to be with you, then you worry about Corinne. But you're Jake's dad. You've done everything you can to make sure he's healthy and happy and has a great life. That doesn't mean that you should sacrifice your life. And you can tell Corinne that her saintly daughter knew you fucked boys from time to time, and she liked it. Tell her Beth like to watch."

"God, can you imagine?" Pete chokes on a laugh. "She would turn purple with rage." He leans back against her and closes his eyes. "Thanks for being worried about me. About us."

"Yeah, well, you have a tendency to jump in with both feet."

"I'm trying to be careful. For Jake's sake, if not my own. I don't want to get hurt, Hil, and I don't want Jake to think of Gabe as something important if Gabe's not ready for that. I mean, a boyfriend's one thing. A kid's another."

"Gabe seems like a good guy."

Pete nods. "Yeah. Yeah. He does. He is. I just wish I knew what came next. What to do. What to..."

"Have fun for a while. It's okay to be friends with Gabe and let Jake get to know him. You don't have to make a lifelong commitment. Especially if you think you and Gabe _are_ friends, because that'll last long past everything else."

"You're younger than me. How'd you get so smart?"

She kisses his cheek and hugs him again. "I listened to my older brother."

**

Pete sits at the table, typing furiously on his laptop. New cups of coffee keep appearing beside him, and by the time he remembers to drink them, they’re almost cold. The words are practically writing themselves, and even stopping for coffee feels like it takes too long. 

It takes him a few minutes to realize Gabe’s sitting next to him and that there’s a plate with a sandwich beside his arm. “What’s that? And hi.”

“Hi. It’s food.” Gabe pushes the plate closer to Pete. “You’ve been here six hours without food and you’ve had twelve cups of coffee. Eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Pete.” Gabe taps the sandwich. “Eat.”

“I’m not...”

“I will pick this up and feed you if necessary. I know you’re writing. I know you’re in the throes of creativity, but if we have to call an ambulance so they can pump your stomach, it’s going to be bad for business. And my job.”

“I’m not-”

“Please.”

Pete sighs and tries to glare at him, failing miserably. He takes the sandwich and opens his mouth widely, exaggerating the movements for Gabe’s benefit. He chews for a moment and closes his eyes. “Oh shit,” he mumbles around the food. “What is this?”

“Turkey, havarti, avocado, garlic mayo, lettuce, and tomato.”

Pete takes another bite. “’s really good.”

“No wonder Jake talks with his mouth full.” Gabe pulls off a piece of Pete’s bread and eats it. “Did you talk to your sister?”

“Hilary? Yeah. Oh, yeah.” He nods.

“And?”

“And what?” Pete takes another bite then puts the sandwich down, turning back to his laptop.

“Pete.” Gabe exhales slowly and reaches out, putting his hand on top of Pete’s before Pete can type anything. “Can you maybe tell me how it went?”

“It went fine.” He frowns at Gabe and then at his hand. “I really need to get back to writing.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Gabe moves his hand and slumps back in his chair for a moment. Pete gives him a quick smile then turns back to his laptop, hands moving already, the words crawling across the page.

He loses track of time, not glancing at a clock until he leans back, his back protesting the movement. He groans softly and presses into the chair, rubbing his eyes. Grabbing his coffee mug, he goes to take a drink, stopping when he sees the film on the surface. His nose wrinkles and he looks around for Gabe. There are two teenagers behind the counter, both of them rejects from some Kevin Smith movie, and he can see the reflection of the streetlights through the smoked glass windows. He closes the laptop and stands up, stretching until his spine pops hollowly. He slips the computer into his bag then slings the strap over his shoulder, walking toward the counter. “Is Gabe here?”

“Gabe?” The guy behind the counter looks over at the girl, who shrugs. “Nah, dude. He left like three hours ago.”

“Three hours?” Pete’s stomach sinks, tightening into a hard ball. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” The guy shrugs, tugging at his lip ring with his fingers. “Said you were busy and to leave you alone until closing.”

“Oh.” Pete runs a hand over his mouth, trying to remain calm. “Do I owe anything?”

“Nope. Gabe said you were all paid up. You’re pretty intense, dude. Maya was mopping right next to you, and you didn’t even notice.” He glances over at the girl behind the espresso machine again. She’s blonde and cool and slim and ignoring them, her eyes cool and bored. “And, dude, _everyone_ notices Maya.”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I...three hours?”

“Three hours.”

“Right. Well. Shit. I have to go then.” He gets out to his car and climbs inside, curving his arms over the top of the steering wheel and pressing his head against them. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

He beats his head against his arms a few times until he accidentally smacks the horn and startles himself. Sitting back, he waits for his heart to stop beating wildly before starting the car. He texts Hilary that he’s done writing and needs to clear his head a little before he comes home. He’d left Jake with her that morning, escaping to write with the promise of a trip to the zoo and a call to Corinne. Jake’s well-versed in exploiting Pete’s end of book pushes, though Pete’s not going to actually worry about it until the requests are less about spending time with Pete and more about other people or expensive toys.

Tucking his phone away, Pete pulls out of the parking lot and heads for Gabe’s place, parking on the street. There’s a light on, so he climbs out of the SUV and walks over to the door, standing there for a long time before he finally manages to courage to knock.

Pete blinks against the light when the door opens, Gabe backlit in the hallway. “Pete. Hey.”

“Hi.” Gabe’s dressed in sweats and a t-shirt and his hair is tinged with sweat along the hairline, the curls at the back of his neck clinging to his skin. “Are you busy? You’re sweaty. Sweaty probably means busy.”

“I was just working out. Come on in.” Gabe steps back and Pete works his way down the hallway, dodging Gabe’s backpacks and bicycle. Richard Simmons’s face fills the entire TV screen, frozen with his mouth open and eyes wild. “Don’t give me shit.”

“I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t know where to start.” Pete licks his lips and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I think I was a dick today.”

Gabe turns off the TV and scratches his head with both hands, making his hair stick up and sweat dot the collar of his shirt. “Is that what you think?”

“Maybe. An unintentional dick, but that doesn’t make me less of a dick. If, indeed, I was dickish.”

“So you’re not actually sure you were a dick.” Gabe gestures to the couch and Pete sits down, barely resisting the temptation to pull his legs in and make himself smaller than normal. “You’re just going under the assumption that you were because...”

“Well, you left.”

“I was off work.”

“But I was still there.”

“And you were busy.”

“But...I mean, not too busy for you.” Gabe raises an eyebrow and sits on the arm of the couch. Pete hates the height difference and the feeling it gives him, so he reaches over and grabs his wrist, pulling Gabe down onto the cushions. It doesn’t help as much as he wants it to, because his voice is still defensive. “What?”

“Pete, I brought you lunch and you blew me off. You took two or three bites of your sandwich and didn’t touch it again. You basically told me to go away because you were busy.”

“But I didn’t mean it...not about _you_. I mean, I would have been like that to anybody. That’s why I have Hilary take Jake when I’m at the end of a book.”

“Okay.” Gabe exhales slowly, and Pete can’t look away from him, trying to tell if he’s angry or upset or about to kick Pete’s ass with Richard Simmons-toned legs. “But you came to where I work.”

“I do that a lot. I’ve always done that.”

“I know that.” Gabe exhales again and Pete hunches his shoulders and looks down. “The thing is...” Gabe stops and Pete looks up at him through his lashes. Gabe shakes his head and lifts Pete’s chin, leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose. Pete’s brow furrows and Gabe smiles, a little sadly. “Could you please stop looking like I’m going to kick your puppy?”

“I don’t have a puppy. We did, but it was in the car with Beth when she...” Pete presses his lips together and shakes his head. “Sorry. Expression. Right.”

“How would you feel if I went to your house and ignored you?”

“Why would you go to my house just to ignore me?”

Gabe laughs and gets up, going into the kitchen and coming back with two waters, offering one to Pete. Pete cracks the seal and drinks half of it, just for something to do. “Pete, I have this thing now, where I kind of think you come to the coffee shop to see me.”

“I did see you! I ate lunch with you!”

“You did not, Pete. You paid attention to me because I made you, and when I tried to determine how our relationship was going because your sister tried to tell you to get rid of me, you blew me off.” Gabe shrugs and sets his water down, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “You said it went fine, but I don’t know what that means. I don’t know what your definition of fine is. Maybe it’s different than mine. Maybe you’re fine if you don’t see me anymore. Maybe you’re fine if I’m just your secret fuck when you’re lonely. Maybe you’re fine just being friends. Fine can mean a lot of different shit, Pete.”

Pete sets his water down on the coffee table and wipes his hands on his thighs. “You really think I’d be fine with any of that?”

“I don’t know. You wouldn’t tell me. And I don’t know how to read that. You won’t tell me because you don’t want to hurt my feelings? You won’t tell me because you think I know? I don’t know, Pete.” Gabe shrugs and shakes his head, a sad smile on his face. “So I got off work and came home.”

Pete stands up and walks over, stopping directly in front of Gabe. “Hilary and I talked, and I told her I was going to be with you if you wanted me. Because I’m...I really like you. A lot. And that I’m not going to hide who I am from Jake, and I’m not going to be ashamed of it. And Beth’s family and my family and the rest of the world are just going to have to deal.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I get it if you don’t want to be with me, because taking on a neurotic mess like me who also happens to have a kid is a lot.” Pete puts his hands on Gabe’s hips, settling them there lightly. “But if you do, this neurotic mess with a kid wants to be with you. Well, even if you don’t, I want to be with you.”

Gabe smiles and leans down, his eyes closed as he rubs his nose against Pete’s. “I want.”

“Oh, good.” Pete exhales roughly, shakily. “Because I was thinking and, you know, I come with Jake, and you and Jake are good together, so maybe, on days you’re not working, you could hang with Jake while I’m writing and get to know each other better, and I can write and not upset either of you. But you could be there. Close by.”

“You want free babysitting.”

Pete laughs. “Well, that’s a bonus.” He looks Gabe in the eye and smiles at him. “I like being near you. That’s why I went to the coffee shop. I like knowing you’re there. Nearby.” He reaches up, touching Gabe’s cheek, then letting his fingers trail down to Gabe’s jaw. “I’m scared. Because I haven’t felt this way in forever.”

“I’ve never felt it before.”

He feels his breath hitch in his chest and he rises up on his tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Gabe’s mouth. Gabe’s hands find Pete’s hips, sliding around to his back to pull his body closer to Gabe’s. He goes willingly, lips parting and his tongue sliding over Gabe’s, deepening the kiss. Gabe makes a noise low in his throat and his hands drop to Pete’s ass, curving around it and boosting him up. 

“Oh fuck,” Pete moans, wrapping his legs around Gabe’s waist. His arms close around Gabe’s neck and he kisses him again, tangling one hand in Gabe’s hair. 

“That was my cunning plan,” Gabe laughs into his mouth, shifting his grip on Pete and starting toward the bedroom. “I’m glad you’re on board.”

“Need to tell Hil I’m going to be later than expected.”

“See if she’ll stay all night.” 

**

Sabrina comes into the house, side-stepping a pile of blocks and a fire truck. “It looks like a bomb went off in here, Pete.”

“Yeah. Sorry. It’s been hectic.” He grabs the truck and picks it up, looks around and sets it down again. “But the book’s done.”

“I love it when you give me good news.” She sits on the couch, pulling a stuffed giraffe from between the cushions. “I thought your sister usually took Jake during the final push.”

“Usually. But she had a thing.”

“Please tell me that doesn’t mean I’m going to end up with another to-do list in the sex scene.”

“What? Oh. No. And _once_. Once, Sabrina.”

“Once was enough. Diapers and Pedialyte have no business between velvet folds and throbbing manhoods.”

“Ew. And also, I do not write like that.” Pete sits down opposite her and rubs his hands on his thighs. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry. Gabe and I are doing a thing.”

“Peter, I love you, but there is no way in hell I want to know about your sex life. Reading your books is bad enough.”

“Not that kind of thing. And no one in real life has sex like in books. Besides, I wouldn’t talk about that with you. Maybe with Mikey or Travis. Definitely Mikey.”

“Peter.”

“Right.” He chews his thumbnail then pulls his hand from his mouth at her impatient look. “Gabe’s watching Jake. Things were going well, but then there was a little meltdown.”

“Gabe or Jake’s?”

“Huh? Oh.” Pete laughs. “Neither. Mine. I kicked them out before they could clean up. They went to the park.”

She nods and taps a finger against her knee. “And Gabe’s the coffee guy?”

Pete nods, aware that he’s blushing. “Yeah.”

“If this book does well, they’re going to want you involved with more of the series. He’s not going to be a distraction?”

“No. Well, maybe some. But definitely more inspiration. I’ve already started the next book.”

“And I’ll get the specs in my email tomorrow?”

“Should already be there. There are a couple more ideas included.”

“Oh?” She pulls out her phone and taps to pull up her email. “Four more?”

He’s definitely blushing now. “Like I said. Inspiring.”

She reads through silently for a moment. “Is one of these what I think it is?”

Pete shrugs. He’s not even close to blasé about this, but he doesn’t want to let it matter, because it’s going to hurt when she says no. “Gay kids need romance too.”

“And who will be writing that one?”

Pete manages to quirk his mouth into a half-smile, afraid of more because it definitely feels like getting his hopes up. “Well, since Peter King and Kingston Lewis are busy with those other ones, I thought maybe Pete Wentz could pick up some of the slack.”

“What about Jake and his grandmother? I thought that was the point of the pen names?”

“You mean other than the fact that there was no way a guy’s name was going to sell romance novels?”

“Peter King’s novels would have been safe.”

“It’s not about safety. I mean, Jake’s going to know I’m bisexual. He already does, even if he doesn’t know the word or really what it means. So he’s going to have that in his life. And if Corinne wants him in _her_ life, she’s going to have to know and deal with it. You’re different though. If you don’t want to represent me...”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sabrina shakes her head and puts her phone away. “LGBT young adult is the thing right now. Bump it to the top of your list.”

“Seriously?”

“Let’s make your name a household one this time.”

Pete grins. “Okay. Let’s.”

**

“Pizza,” Gabe calls out as he comes in the kitchen door. “We got pizza.”

“An’ breadsticks!” Jake yells out. “Come ‘n get it, Daddy!”

Pete pokes his head in the kitchen. “Hey, guys.”

“Daddy, Gabe says I’m not ‘llowed to carry pizzas.”

“They’re bigger than you, little man. When you’re a little bigger.” Gabe hands the boxes to Pete. “And not too much bigger, see? I let your dad carry them.”

“Keep it up with the short jokes, Saporta,” Pete growls, making a face.

“Don’t worry, Pete. You’re the perfect size.”

There’s no innuendo or anything else in Gabe’s tone, but Pete blushes anyway, bumping into Gabe. “Quit it.”

Gabe smiles and grabs plates out of the cupboard as Pete digs out cups for drinks. Jake climbs into his chair and watches them, getting settled. Gabe and Jake eat like they’re starving, listening and nodding at Pete while he talks. It’s nice and relaxed, and Pete leans back in his chair. 

“So, what did you two do besides order pizza?”

“Played dinosaurs in the park.” Jake chews his pizza, chasing the string of cheese all the way back down to the crust.

“You did, huh? Who won?”

Jake scrunches his nose. “I helpted Gabe be dinosaurs.”

“Oh, really?” Pete sucks sauce off his finger, his eyes darting to Gabe. He blushes as Gabe watches his mouth, ducking his head before looking back at Jake. “Wow. I thought they were the bad guys.”

“These were nice dinosaurs.” He gives Gabe a concerned look. “Erbinvoreds.”

“Herbivores,” Gabe corrects him. “But that was great. That’s a big word.”

“I knowed a big word, Daddy.”

“Sure do, buddy.” Pete grins. “And it’s know, not knowed.” He ruffles Jake’s hair as Jake frowns. “Going to have to teach Aunt Hilary your new word.”

“Can I called her?”

“A little bit later, okay?”

“Okay. Go play?” 

“Clean up first.”

Jake wrinkles his nose again as he slides off his chair and goes into the living room. His frown doesn’t last long though, since a minute or two later, Pete can hear him singing to himself as he cleans. Pete can’t stop smiling, and he leans to his side, resting his head on Gabe’s arm as he slides his hand along Gabe’s thigh, squeezing lightly.

“Daddy?”

Pete straightens, jerking his hand away and smacking it on the underside of the table. He risks further injury smacking Gabe’s arm when he starts to chuckle. “Yeah, Jake?”

“Sammy at the park asked if Gabe were part of our family. I knowed you haven’t said so yet, but is it okay that I said yes? Because I wants him to be.”

Pete’s voice gets stuck in his throat, the panic of finality, of reality freezing his vocal chords. Gabe reaches over and takes Pete’s hand, settling it against the table and squeezing. “It’s okay with me.”

Pete breathes and nods, twisting his hand enough to squeeze Gabe’s in return then threading their fingers together. “Yeah, Jake. He’s one of the clan now.”

Gabe raises an eyebrow as Jake goes back into the living room, singing a little louder. “The clan, huh?”

“Yeah. Me and Jake and Hilary and all of my pseudonyms.”

“And me.”

“Yeah.” Pete leans in and kisses Gabe, closing his eyes and reveling in how easy it seems, how easy it really is. “And you.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[mix] you give me something](https://archiveofourown.org/works/501255) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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